The Problems With Past Lives
by Zira Angel
Summary: Sparkbonded bots come back from the Well to be with their bonded again, but Oil Slick isn't sure if he really did.
1. Chapter 1

New fic! I'm updating again! Woo! Have some Oil Slick.

Transformers Belongs to Hasbro

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><p>The air felt so nice on his wings, sliding over and under them like the warmest, softest blanket he'd ever felt. It was sun-heated air, and the sky was clear and perfect, showing the outline of a city in the distance, but he was not interested in the city.<p>

No. All he cared about was the air under him, over him, everywhere around him, and the heat of his thrusters as he bent his wings up and soared even higher.

Someone was flying next to him, soft grey and purple armor, and a sleek, streamlined frame that was just slightly less nice than his own. He skimmed closer, for a better look, and then-

_Beep Beep Beep!_

Oil Slick onlines his optics and stares at the sparkling nightlight-clock which was telling him that his naptime is over. He didn't like his clock. It's noisy.

He turns it off, and slips out of his berth. He always feels so heavy after recharging. He wants to spread his wings and take to the air, but he doesn't actually _have _wings. He also always feels like he's not the right color. Too dark and misplaced.

His mamas had taken him to the medic bot to check and see if he had something called sky hunger, but he didn't. He just wants to take to the air and fly. They sometimes throw him in the air, but that isn't the same thing. He's just a cyclebot, four treads firmly on the ground.

Thinking of that, he beams and transforms to vehiclemode to dash out of his room. Mama Glitterfrost was making energon candy, and he wanted a piece. The best way to get one is to drive in and look pitiful.

He's good at looking pitiful.

Very good at it.

His treads squeal loudly when he stops in front of his mama, rubbing his frame against her peds like he's seen their pet cybercat do. "Ma~ma~," he drags the word out long, revving his tiny engine loudly. "Mama. Want candy."

Glitterfrost shakes her head, reaching down to pet him with one white servo, and Oil Slick still thinks her sparkly paint is pretty-looking. "Not now, sparkling. You just onlined from your nap, and I won't let you spoil your appetite by having candy before fuel."

Oil Slick transforms and gives her a petulant look, leaning against her white and blue ped. "Want candy." She narrows her green optics and Oil Slick immediately takes on a sparkbroken expression, "Please."

She shakes her head, "No, sparkling. You know better."

He reaches up, long claws hooking into her hip kibble, "Want it, mama."

She pushes him away gently, "If you're hungry, Mama Wildstar has your sparkling ener-"

He makes a face, "Gross, mama! Candy!"

She snorts, "You will drink the entire cube, and if you do, I will give you an entire piece."

Normally she only gives him half a piece, so he jumps on the opportunity, "Yes, mama!" He takes off down the hall, transforming as he goes, only to end up in a tangled heap hitting the wall just before the door. His limbs are too big for his frame, and he feels like he's missing something all the time.

Mama Glitterfrost sighs, and paces over to pick his mistransformed frame off the floor. She's the best creator ever because she always helps him figure out where his limbs are supposed to go when he mistransforms himself. Mama Wildstar usually makes him try to figure it out himself and it takes so much longer.

With his limbs tucked up properly, Mama Glitterfrost places him on the floor. "There you go, sparkling. Be more careful next time, alright?"

"Yes, Mama," he promises, and then takes off down the hallway to find Mama Wildstar. She's usually in the study, reading datapads or yelling at mechs on the comscreen. She likes yelling at mechs a lot. He's pretty sure that's her job.

He peeks in, and she's screaming at the comscreen. This time there's another femme on the line, and she doesn't look very happy about it. Something about an improperly mixed ... something. It was a long string of words and had numbers in it. He isn't really sure what that is about.

He walks in cautiously, and puts a servo on her leg. He knows he's not really supposed to interrupt her, but getting energon is something that means he's allowed to distract her. "Mama?"

She puts a servo on his head, still yelling at the screen, "And next time I even _hear _a whisper of your misconduct, it is more than just your job on the line!" The com is disconnected, and she looks down at him, voice loving, "Yes, sparkling?"

"Energon, Mama," he pleads, looking up at her with his optics as wide as he can make them, and Wildstar laughs. She pulls him up onto her lap, and Oil Slick puts his servos on the yellow starburst patterns on her armor, trying to match his claws up to the spreading angles of the yellow lines that fade into her black armor. "Please, energon."

Wildstar pets his helm, and shakes her own, "Not until you ask properly."

Oil Slick wrinkles up his face plates, and struggles with the words, "Want energon, please."

"Close, sparkling. But I know you can say it right."

He leans in and rests his helm against her armor. "I want energon, please."

She taps him on the nose, smiling at him, "Of course, sweetspark." She kisses his forehead, and he rubs his nose - it always feels so out of place and big- while she pulls out a sparkling sized cube, "Here you are, Oil Slick."

He takes it slowly, knowing better than to rush and accidentally spill it. He's been taught how to do it, and he wants to prove to his mamas how big he is to show them he doesn't _need _icky sparkling energon. He tried to take the energon from his mama's cubes, but they always giggle and pull it away, telling him to drink the energon he needs.

"Thank you, mama," he murmurs before drinking it. He knows that his mamas like it when he's polite, and it will mean Mama Wildstar won't protest him getting a full piece of candy.

He thinks about how much candy that is, and how tasty it is going to be, because Mama Glitterfrost makes the best candies in the entire world. He's a little bit worried, because his tank is starting to fill up, and his fuel levels are getting close to 'full.' If he's full, he won't have room for all the warm, sticky candy.

Oil Slick puts the cube down, with some of the energon still in it, and Wildstar rubs his back, "Are you full now, sparkling?" She reaches for his cube and he pulls it away.

"No," he says sharply, and lifts it again to drink the rest.

He wants that candy. All of it.

He feels far too full to eat any now, though. Not that he will admit it. He drank all of his energon, now he gets his reward.

Mama Wildstar picks him up, kissing his forehead, "Let's go for a race in the backyard. Won't that be fun?"

He shakes his head, "No! Candy!" He won't be allowed to have the candy if he goes straight outside, his mamas will just want him to fuel on sparkling energon instead.

His mama gives him an amused look, "Did Mama Glitterfrost promise you some if you drank it all?"

Nodding, he adjusts himself into as defiant a posture as possible in her arms, challenging her to try and deny him the candy he so rightfully deserves. "Yes. Full piece." His glossa tingles just thinking about it, even if it makes his tank churn a little.

Wildstar pokes his chest, right over his tank, "Are you sure you have enough room in there for candy, sparkling? You know what happens if you fuel so much you purge. No candy for a full stellar cycle."

Oil Slick pouts, "Won't purge." He has a _plan _for that, and he won't let his mamas tell him no. Not when he earned the candy.

She gives him an amused look, walking down the hallway, "If you're sure."

He nods, "Want candy."

She jiggles him in her arms, and he feels kind of sick with how his fuel sloshes back and forth in his tank, but he manages to keep from purging or clinging to his creator. She sets him in the chair at the table, and turns to Glitterfrost, "Looks like our little bot finished his entire cube. He tells me you promised him something. Is this true?"

His mamas kiss, and Oil Slick wrinkles his face plates in disgust. Gross kisses.

Glitterfrost nods, and rubs her pale servos down Wildstar's sides. "Yes, I did. I said he could have a full piece of energon candy if he drank his entire cube." She smiles at him, "Are you hungry enough for a full piece, sweetspark?"

Oil Slick nods eagerly, "Yes. Candy now!" At Wildstar's stern look, he adds, "I want candy, please."

A laugh, and Oil Slick thinks Glitterfrost's laughs sound like crystal chimes. "He's so much better behaved with you, Wildstar."

His dark framed mama waves a servo, "You just need to remind him to use his words, sweetspark." She puts a piece of candy in his servos, "And what do we say?"

He looks at the delicious candy, and says quickly, "Thank you!" He nibbles on the corner of it, not sure how much he can put in his tank, but also wanting to make sure his creators don't take it from him. "Racing?" Wildstar raises a optic ridge, and he specifies, "We go racing now?"

Glitterfrost pats him on the head, "Of course, sparkling. You need to work off your energy since you got an entire cube _and _the candy."

Wildstar holds out her servo, "Give me what you can't fuel up on, little sparkling. And we will go racing together."

Oil Slick yanks the candy away from her reach, "No." He nibbles a little more, and his tank churns, informing him that it can't fit any more fuel. "Mine."

And he decides to do his plan now. He pops open his sparkplates and shoves the remaining candy inside, closing his sparkplates before his Mamas can steal it away from him. It is _his_candy.

Both of his mamas cry out with dismay, and Glitterfrost picks him up immediately, "Open up _now_, sparkling!"

He squirms, trying to get away, "No! Mine!"

She uses her claws, trying to pry him open, "Now!"

He whines, pulling away, "No!" He hates that they always take it away from him. _He earned_ it, and they never let him keep it after. It is his candy, and they won't let him have a subspace to put it in. Where else is he supposed to store it? There's no where else he has. He had tiny tanks on his peds, but those got taken away when he tried to put _his last _candy piece in them.

Wildstar takes hold of his arms, "If you don't open up, we aren't going to give you any candy for a _vorn_."

Oil Slick bursts into tears and squirms harder in their servos, "No no no no no!"

Both of his creators have to hold him down and still while they open an access port on his arm and use the stupid evil nasty code that makes his sparkplates open up for them. Glitterfrost sighs and scoops out the melted, sticky remains of the candy. "Congratulations, sparkling. You get a solvent wash _and _no energon candy for a vorn." He cries harder, and she amends, "A half-vorn if you show good behavior and don't try anything like this again."

He just sobs even harder. All he wanted was to save his candy for when he wasn't so full and could enjoy it. He just can't figure out how to _say _it. Whenever he tries, his glossa gets all tangled up. Just like with his arms and legs when he tries to transform too fast.

He's carried to the washrack, and put in a small portable tub that is filled with solvents. His creator's scrub him down, and he doesn't quiet his sobs for almost two breems. By the time they're finally done cleaning out his chamber, he's leaning on the edge of the tub, and crying silently; lubricants sliding out of his optics.

Mama Glitterfrost sighs, and wipes the lubricants away from his face. "I know you want a subspace, sparkling, but you have to prove that you're a responsible bot before you get one. Trying to put energon candy where it doesn't belong doesn't show you are responsible."

He just sniffles, aware that he has been deprived of candy because his creators are cruel, evil bots that don't want him to have delicious sweets. He hates them so much. So much. He is going to offline because he won't have energon candy if he gets trapped somewhere, and then his creators will be so sad and they will go 'Oh, I wish we had just given him the candy he wanted! He wouldn't be offline if we hadn't been so mean!' and they would be very sad and cry a lot.

He can't even say it, because the last time he tried saying he wanted a subspace, they just told him he wasn't responsible enough, or he didn't even have a use for it. When he pointed out he could put the candy in it, they just took it as a reason he shouldn't have one at all.

He's tired, and it doesn't even matter that his tank is full. All he wants to do is curl up and recharge, since his dreams are filled with flying and other fun things. He knows that the bot that was flying with him during his nap gives him candy whenever he wanted. He got fed it while laying on the bot's lap and his wings got petted all the time.

He wants wings.

"Want wings," he mutters, and Wildstar pets his helm.

"You're a cyclebot, sweetspark. You would look awfully silly with wings on you." She pinches his headscrews, "You don't even have the proper coding for flight. You'd crash right into the ground if we modded you, and we can't afford to upgrade you to a flier model. You know that."

He gives them a deep scowl, "Hate you."

Glitterfrost gives his aft a warning pat, "Don't say things like that, sparkling. You know you don't hate us."

He glares at her, moving away, and clambering out of the tub. "Recharging."

He's grabbed before he can leave the washrack, "You just took a nap, sparkling." Wildstar walks over to the drying vents, "It isn't healthy for you to be recharging all the time. You need to go exercise."

He tries to yank away, "_No_!" He doesn't want to run around the stupid racetrack when they demand he do stupid things he hates because it's 'good' for him. He doesn't need to do obstacles when he should be able to just fly over them.

"Yes, sparkling." Wildstar holds him in front of the vents, letting them dry the solvents off of his squirming frame. "And if you keep fighting me, you get to go have a time out. I know you don't like time outs."

They're boring and he has to stand in the corner and he can't even recharge and dream about the nice bot. "Mean," he hisses at her, and he squirms harder.

"Sometimes we have to be mean, sweetspark. But it's not really being mean. We just want you healthy and safe. We just want you to be the best sparkling you can be," Wildstar kisses his helm.

He pushes her away, "Hate _me_." He doesn't care about her hurt look at that, finally getting out of her grip and taking off. He thinks about transforming, but knows he'll just hurt himself and get forced into the horrible transformation drills in addition to the obstacle course. Instead he slips under the table that his creators never check, and waits until they run past to try to catch him.

He slips back into the washrack, knowing they always check his berthroom first, and he can loop around after they do, and recharge in his pile of stuffed toys. If he covers himself right, they won't even be able to find him and he can just recharge without the horrible alarm going off to wake him up. They put it in there so he couldn't nap for too long, and now he'll do what he _wants_.

Oil Slick is better than their stupid rules. He knows it, all the way down in his spark.

But he probably won't be putting energon candy in his sparkchamber again. It had been really sticky and kind of gross. He'll just have to find a way to get a subspace without his creators approving it. A secret subspace of his own that no bot could take away from him. Secret ones. Ones that mean claws can't dip into.

He'll make it. Somehow.

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><p>He's gotten used to flying dreams, but that doesn't make being torn out of them by the alarm any easier.<p>

He rubs his optics with one servo as he turns the frustrating thing off, then stands up. He has to get ready for school, and he's not really sure how much he's looking forward to it. One part of him is super excited and happy to go - since he _finally _gets to go - while another part of him isn't very happy - because it is school, and a part of him isn't happy about that for some reason.

He has his subspace to put his datapads and styluses in now, though. That's something he's very happy to have. His mamas tell him that the classes will help him a lot, since they're putting him with ninjabots to learn. Some part of him is horrified at that, and he's not really sure why, since ninjabots are _so awesome_.

He'll get to learn all sorts of cool moves, and know how to fight better than the other sparklings. He'll be the _best _ninjabot ever.

And then he'll grow up and have a family just like his mamas do. Except he'll have lots of sparklings instead of just one. Lots of them.

But first, he has to learn how to be a ninjabot and how to write more things than just his name, which he had been so proud to learn how to write from Mama Wildstar. He had been very good at shaping his letters and sigils and he'd been given a half piece of candy for doing it right the first time.

He still has several pieces of candy tucked carefully into his subspace. He only eats them when he's hungry, since he knows he shouldn't be spoiling his supper. He is _very _responsible about it. He has proven that he won't abuse that he has one, and he won't have it taken away because of that.

He finishes putting his datapads away, and walks to where his mamas are with his cube of energon. They've started mixing it half sparkling and half adult energon, and it tastes _so much better_. Especially when they found out he's a high energy bot that needs more energon than normal. And the reason why he'd been trying to hide the candy away for later.

They found it unusual, because cyclebots were almost never high-energy models, but an awful trip to the medic had revealed that Oil Slick had some extra fans and internal parts that normal cyclebots did not.

It meant he got better energon sooner, so Oil Slick was happy with it.

"Are you ready for your classes, sparkling?" Mama Glitterfrost asks, offering him his cube, which he sips from slowly, the way he's seen his mamas drink. "We hope you enjoy the special ninjabot school. You get classes and ninjabot lessons. The best of both worlds."

He nods, beaming at them, "Yeah!" He sips at his energon, "It will be fun!" He pushes the tiny bit of him worried about it away, his creators told him that it was fun, and he believes them. Besides the part of him that thinks that it won't be fun also thinks that he'll just have to sit quietly and only read with no fighting. Ninjabots are taught to fight, he watched a class with his mamas.

He loved how they seemed to disappear into the ceiling and other areas that didn't seem to have any hiding places at all. He can't wait to learn how to do that.

"Now you have to stay on your best behavior, sparkling," Wildstar reminds him, and Oil Slick nods. "This is a very expensive school, and if you don't behave, they have the right to send you to normal sparkling school."

Oil Slick's optics widen unhappily, "No. No, I'll be good. I want to be a ninjabot." He wants it really bad, and he'll even drink gross sparkling energon plain if he has to if it means he gets to stay there. "I'll be good."

She pats him on the head, "Good." She tugs him into her lap, being careful not to spill the energon, "You'll have to do well in _all_of the classes, sparkling. If you're doing badly, we'll need to take you out. None of us are ninjabots, so it is going to be hard, but we'll try our hardest to help you. Don't think you can't ask for help."

He nods, "I know, mama."

She kisses his forehead screw, "Good, sparkling. We want you to be the best, and you're smart enough to be just that."

Mama Glitterfrost attacks his face with a polishing cloth, and Oil Slick squirms unhappily as she wipes away imaginary energon and dust. "You'd better not come home all filthy and covered in organic dirt. The ninjabot school has an organic garden, and you'll do well to stay away from it if you can, sweetspark."

He wants to see the organic garden, but part of him tells him it's a bad idea, even if it sounds really fun.

"I'll stay out of the garden, mamas." He pulls away from them, "Can we _go_?" He wants to know what school is like, and he knows it'll be great to know what happens there aside from hiding from the senseis.

They laugh, and he's set on the ground, "Yes, sparkling. We can go. You're transforming quickly enough that you don't have to ride on one of us."

He's glad he did the stupid drills for transformation and all the obstacle courses, even if he hates them. He was told that the ones in the ninjabot school are even harder, and he doesn't want to look bad as he does them.

He wonders if there will be any fliers there, and if he can make them carry him. Flier sparklings are bigger, and they should be able to carry him without trouble.

If he's allowed to hitch rides with them.

His engine rumbles with excitement, and his mamas giggle. "I've never seen a sparkling so eager to go to class," Glitterfrost exclaims, and they all transform outside together. "You're gonna make us proud, right sparkling?"

He spins his wheels excitedly, "Yeah!" He'll make them the _proudest_. He knows he can do this, and it'll be fun.

His mamas both nuzzle him, and encourage him on his way with them.

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><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

Oil Slick is practically vibrating with how excited he is. The other sparklings around him are just as happy as he is, just worse at hiding it. He knows that a ninjabot it supposed to appear calm at all times, so he's trying his hardest to do that. It is hard, though.

They're going to see the garden, and they're being taught how to properly take care of them.

Organic things are messy and green and _awesome_and the sparklings have all been kept away from them for the first couple of decacycles, where they were taught boring things like what ninjabots were expected to do and how they were supposed to behave and stuff like that.

Now they get to get their servos messy with real organic things.

He can hardly wait.

When the big doors slide open, it's even better than he thought it would be. The garden is _huge_and it goes on in every direction as far as he can see and there are giant trees and bright colored things called flowers, and everything he could imagine wanting and more.

He looks up in amazement, the greenery and life around him is wonderful to see. He had a slight worry nagging at him for a long time before this, but it melts away at the sight of everything. He walks with his class through the place looking at everything as they go, and they're getting to a place that is the sparkling garden when one of his senseis looks at a plant in confusion, "Is this dying?"

His class crowds around and sensei Sparkride looks at the plant closer, it is turning brown and rotting in the mech's servo, and his second sensei looks at it for a long moment before frowning, "How did this even happen?"

"Is it something-" Oil Slick stops paying attention to get closer to a pretty pink flower with glittery petals that he wants to give to his mama. He reaches out to pick it, and tuck it in his subspace before anyone can see, but he cries out with dismay when his claws touch it and it shrivels immediately, turning brown and gross.

He's pulled away from the plants by sensei Horsepower, who wipes the organic matter off his claws, "Ah. We've got a black-thumbed sparkling in our group."

Oil Slick looks up with confused, half-shuttered optics, wondering if this means he's going to be kicked out of ninjabot school.

"It's alright, Oil Slick. Some bots cannot work with organic life." Horsepower smiles at him, and Oil Slick hesitantly returns the smile as he's carried out of the garden, "It means you'll be better with the crystal raising than the other sparklings will."

He bites his lower lip, searching for what he wants to say. He finally asks, "Will I ever be able to go in the garden?" He'd been looking forward to it, and now he may not be able to.

Sensei Horsepower shakes his head sadly, "No, Oil Slick. You won't. You can look at the garden from the windows." He's set on the floor, and his servo is taken as they walk, "You do, however, get to move up to a more advanced class. Most sparklings don't get to do crystal raising so soon, but because of this we can move you. We were thinking of putting you in it since you're much calmer than the other sparklings, anyway." He's patted on the head, "This just means you can do it now instead of later."

He presses his servos against the window glass and stares out at the other sparklings who are all laughing and touching the organic plants without the plants shriveling up and turning brown. "But I wanna go in the garden."

"I'm sorry, sparkling. You can't. Some ninjabots can't." Oil Slick is picked up and held firmly. Ninjabots are very tactile and like giving lots of cuddles. "You know sensei Powerhug, the bot who teaches you ninjabot history? He has a black-thumb too. He's still a very good ninjabot."

He likes sensei Powerhug, since he always make something that always seemed so _boring_on the datapad the most interesting thing to know. Making rhymes and showing them how to remember dates in addition to how everything goes on. "He is."

Sensei Horsepower continues holding him as they walk, and rubs his back, "Do you want to learn how to carve crystals, too?" His servo is moved, and one of his claws pinched playfully, "These will be perfect for it. You'll be given a special repair kit to keep them sharp, but you have your subspace open, so it won't be a problem."

He'd been especially proud when he'd learned that _none_ of his classmates had a subspace yet because they kept sticking stupid things in the practice subspaces they were given. Oil Slick was more responsible and _better_. "Yes," he practically chirps with enthusiasm, wiggling his claws in Horsepower's grip. "Is it fun?"

"I do not have the knack for it, so it is endlessly frustrating for me, but I am told that it is quite relaxing for those bots who have the skill."

He smiles, "I hope I can do it."

Horespower throws him in the air, since his senseis all know how much he wants to fly, and they don't mind indulging him - if only to stop him asking for rides with the only flying bot in his class, a sulky jetbot that can't do more than hover. "You have claws, Oil Slick. Most of the time that means you'll do well at it." He's thrown up again, and caught deftly, "We may need to put you in a more elevated area when we do gym. You've gotten really good at landing."

Gym was really fun, because he was tossed all over and got to leap off of things to learn how to land properly, on soft, squishy padding. His favorite was a metal mesh thing, because he found out if you landed just right on it, you could launch yourself back up into the air.

It had freaked out his senseis, which only made it even _better_to do.

He'd been taken away from that mesh after smacking himself into the wall a couple of times.

He's dropped on the ground, and he rolls just like he'd been taught before stopping in front of a door. Horsepower nods approvingly, and then peeks into the room, saying something Oil Slick can't make out. After a moment, he's tugged into the room, "This is sensei Road Rocket, Oil Slick. He teaches how to properly care for crystals. The open class for this time slot is actually a little ahead of what we'd have put you in if you hadn't had a black thumb, but he will teach you the basics, and we'll see how you do. How does that sound?"

He nods slowly, not really sure if that's good or not. He is _fairly_sure he'll be able to do it, since he picks things up pretty fast. "If I can't do it, what will I do?" He doesn't want to be kicked out and put in normal sparkling school because he can't grow anything.

Road Rocket's visor flashes with amusement, "If you can't do it fast enough, we rearrange your schedule. We're just testing to see how you do. If you can keep up, then you wouldn't have had to do too much for other classes, and you get to keep the senseis you're used to. Don't worry."

"Okay." Ninjabots are supposed to be fearless, so Oil Slick steps forward, away from sensei Horsepower, and when Road Rocket kneels down and opens his arms for a hug, Oil Slick runs forward and clings to him. "I'm Oil Slick. I have a black-thumb."

Road Rocket laughs, and his audio fins wiggle a little bit, prompting Oil Slick to reach up and grab at them with his claws. "Welcome to our class, Oil Slick. You can sit beside Prowl. He's a bit older than you, but he is used to helping with the younger sparklings."

He looks around, unsure who that is, and a black and gold cyclebot waves a servo. He's gently pushed, and he hurries over to sit next to the mech. Prowl smiles at him, "Hello, Oil Slick."

He smile back nervously, "Hi." He wiggles his claws in a tiny wave, "Is this hard?"

Prowl shakes his head, "Not if you pay attention. Sensei Road Rocket may take you to the side to explain some things, but I'll be here to help clarify what you need. I normally do some tutoring when it comes to this. Maybe you'll help me with that when you're used to it."

Oil Slick nods eagerly, and leans against Prowl. They're usually encouraged to share desks, to foster 'cooperation' and 'tactile appreciation.' Oil Slick just knows that it means that he gets to cuddle and be warm in his classes and he likes it. Ninjabot school is so much fun.

His optics widen as a big hunk of crystal is put in front of the both of them on their desk. The other bots all get a piece to share too, but Oil Slick thinks theirs is best because it has purple streaks in it.

He rubs the flat of his claw along the streaks, and he has a flash of the bot from his dreams next to him. The bot is holding him close and talking about how he loves something he gave him and how purple and green are so wonderful then he loses it because Prowl is gently shaking him. "Oil Slick. You've been sitting there staring at the crystal for a klik. We have to do this."

He shakes his head to clear it, shuttering his optics. He rubs his helmet and nods, "Sorry. I just... It happens to me."

Prowl just smiles at him, "That's fine. Some of my other partners did that, too. I'm used to it." The crystal is moved closer to them, "We need to explain what type of crystal this is and how to properly care for it. Sometimes we get hybrids, but that just means sensei thinks we can handle identifying harder things. I once had to identify a crystal with five different types in it, and explain how to take care if it." The cyclebot pauses, "... my partner at that time was able to, while I struggled."

Oil Slick looks at the crystal, which is very pretty, but he doesn't know anything about it. Other than that it's pretty. "Do we have datapads to help us?" He prods the crystal, and taps it with his claws in various places. "I don't know." He bites his lip, "I don't know what this is at all."

Prowl pats his back, "It's okay. It takes time to learn it. They don't expect you to know yet."

He taps his peds on the floor, still nervous, "Then why am I doing this now? I'll just do really badly and my mamas will have to send me to normal sparkling school." He doesn't want that. The thought of it makes his spark pulse erratically, and he clenches his servos.

Prowl tugs him into a hug, "You're _fine_. We always do this in the start of class. Get given a crystal that we may not know at all, and try to identify it. Here." A datapad is put in front of him, "List everything you can see about it."

He looks at his partner nervously, but starts to write down that it has purple streaks. "There."

Prowl chuckles, "There's more than just that. See how it isn't all smooth? And how it has a clear part? You can't just ignore no color for color."

He writes those things down, but he doesn't know how to write many words yet, so he has to struggle and pull up the little helper icon and speak the words to it. It's embarrassing to have the older sparkling watch him not know how to write things. But Prowl doesn't say anything, and he doesn't tease him for not knowing words.

Oil Slick bites his lip again and stares at the crystal, wanting to redeem himself. "It's . . it has a very rough edge at the top, but it's smooth at the bottom. And it sounds hollow when you tap the clear parts."

Prowl smiles, "Keep going. But you need to keep in mind that it isn't always put on the table the same way. You saw how it was on its side when sensei put it on the table. Just say 'rough on one side and smooth on the opposite' or something like that. You can also label the sides by numbers or letters." Prowl gently takes the datapad from him, "I normally don't do this, but maybe you'll have a better time if we draw it."

He likes to draw. He's always liked to draw. That and sing, but he doesn't normally sing. His mamas say he'll be able to sing really well when he's older. And he's pretty good at it in music class as well. "I can do that."

The datapad is given back, "Labels really help if you do that. You can't just draw it and say it is done. You have to write what you see."

Oil Slick looks at the crystal that Prowl drew, and erases a few parts of it to make it more accurate. He taps the crystal again, and then marks all the spots where it sounds hollow, and all the spots that sound solid. Sensei Road Rocket comes over and smiles at them.

"Any luck finding out what your crystal is yet, little bots?"

Prowl looks at the datapad, "You gave us a hybrid. I know that the clear is a quartz, but I'm not sure what specific type."

Road Rocket nods, "And what have you found, Oil Slick?"

He keeps from making a face at the crystal, ninjabots are composed at all times. "I know that it sounds like it will fall apart if you hit it too hard."

His sensei chuckles softly, "Well, you have a breem until we take out the datapads to identify it. Just take your time."

Oil Slick sees a sparkling a few desks away pick up his crystal and _lick_it, and he pauses, "Are we supposed to taste the crystals, sensei?"

"Taste the-" Road Rocket sighs, and turns to the sparkling, "Whiplash, stop licking your crystal. Your job is to identify it, and we have been giving you tasteless crystals for a reason."

The sparkling just stares at Road Rocket, and then deliberately puts the crystal in his mouth and tries to chew on it.

Sensei rushes over to take care of that, and Prowl leans on him to look at the datapad. "Do you know what the purple bit is? You zoned out, and some of my other partners could identify a crystal when they did that."

He looks at it again, and all he knows is that it is the exact same shade of purple of the bot next to him in his dreams. He has long since stopped _talking_about the bot, since no one believed him when he spoke about it before. All he knows is that the bot loves him. Or he thinks the bot does. He isn't really sure.

He pokes the crystal, and it rings hollowly. Staring at it for an astrosecond longer, he shakes his head. "No."

Prowl sighs. "That's okay. I'm not sure what it is either." He flicks it with his fingers, and a bit of the purple crumbles away onto the desk. He stares at it, and then tells Oil Slick, "Write down that the hybrid is softer than quartz."

Oil Slick uses the pad to help him write, focusing intently on each word to try and memorize it into his processor, so he won't have to call it up again later on.

He'll do well in this, and never have to go to normal sparkling school.

* * *

><p>He looks at the chunk of crystal in front of him, studying the faults inside of it. He's been doing the crystal carving for awhile, and now he got told to make something that means a very great deal to him. The hard part is the fact that he was told that <em>he<em>is not allowed to use his creators or any of his pets or fellow ninjabots. None of the others in the class were given this requirement, and he isn't exactly sure what they're trying to prove.

He is thinking about making it a flying bot or something to do with singing. He loves singing. He always feels a special warmth in his spark when he gets a compliment on it. Like he'd been wanting it for a very long time, but had always been told he was terrible at it.

Which doesn't make sense, since he is always told how wonderful his voice it.

It's probably going to end up something abstract, maybe wings that morph slowly into musical notes, or something like that. He wants it to have meaning. Even if he loses points because his senseis may not understand what it is.

It's either that, or he is going to end up sculpting his mystery bot, and that will lead to all sorts of questions and teasing that he's too old to have an imaginary friend. So he's thinking wings and music notes, and staying away from his special dream bot.

Sharpening his claws, he starts to work on it.

Almost immediately after, Prowl drops from the ceiling. It is only because of long practice at pretending to not be startled that he doesn't cut the crystal clean through, and instead carves easily. "Did you need something?"

The mech wraps arms around him, nuzzling his back, "So, Oil Slick, I was wo-"

He moves his head away, "No. I don't know how to convince sensei Yoketron that you are the bot for him."

"You're so good at carving," Prowl hums, kissing his cheek playfully. "You could carve something for me to give to him? Maybe a spark?"

Oil Slick makes a sparkling chirp of dismay, "I'm not carving you a spark. Go away, Prowl. I'm trying to work on my assignment, and you probably have work to do too. If you want Yoketron, you have to get him on your own." He ducks out of Prowl's reach again.

The other cyclebot grabs him by the waist, "But you're so much _better_at this sort of thing than me. You got Streetwise to kiss me by that little bit of advice to give him candy from my servos. You know a lot. Tell me how to get Yoketron."

He makes a face, pulling away, "Sensei Yoketron is much more experienced than Streetwise. I'm not going to be able to help you. Go bug someone else. I want to work on this." He has a sudden flash in his head of laughter and being kissed while being tugged into large arms, then shakes his head, pushing Prowl away. "I can't just ignore it on your whims."

He wishes the flashes of the mystery bot and him with wings weren't coming more often. It is so hard to concentrate now, and that means he won't be able to do his homework if he keeps getting harassed. He was planning on just hiding in this room and working, but being off by himself for solitude doesn't really work in a school full of ninjabots.

No bot here knows the meaning of privacy, other than 'something that means I can't let them know I'm watching.' He sighs, and turns his back on Prowl, frowning at the sculpture, which his claws have instinctively shaped into a similar jet-form to the bot in his dreams. He hacks a wing off and works on shaping the remainder into musical notes and waves.

Prowl rests his chin on Oil Slick's shoulder and stares down at his sculpture. "You love making abstracts, don't you?"

He fights off the urge to shove the other mech away, "It leaves it more open to interpretation." And keeps bots from knowing about his mystery bot. He's never telling anyone about him ever.

His waist is given a playful squeeze, "But senseis prefer something more solid."

He frowns, "Have you been talking to Jazz?"

Prowl waves a servo, "He's fun to talk to. You should do it more often. It is very hard to ruffle him."

He rolls his optics, "His creators run a purple cora crystal garden. Any bot exposed to that constantly is hard to get a reaction out of other than faint surprise."

"Oh yeah? Well, we made out behind the big crystal and he totally got all hot and revvy, so he's definitely got more emotions than dull surprise." Prowl grins, "Making out is fun. I'll show you when you're old enough to appreciate it. Then you'll get why I want sensei."

He snorts, "You want sensei Yoketron because you're a slutbot."

The bot scoffs, "I want sensei because he is _wonderful_."

Oil slick pushes the other cyclebot away, "That's nice. You go harass him, then."

Prowl shakes his head, "I tried that. He pushed me off the desk and told me to work on my stealth."

"How is this," he waves at the room, "being stealthy? You're in plain sight and talking to me."

The mech waves a servo dismissively, "I'm out of _his_sight."

He rolls his optics, and points at a corner of the ceiling, "See right there? Some of the senseis like hiding there to check on bots. You can tell that someone is there _right now _because there's a faint glimmer from a shiny paint and the small sound of venting." He glares up at the corner, "Yeah, I know you're spying, Tap-Out! Maybe _you_should go harass Yoketron for more training."

The minibot drops from the ceiling. "Hey, I never claimed I was good at the ninjabot part. Better at the boxing part." He grins, and sidles up alongside Oil Slick, "I like your sculptures. I could show you a more private place to work, if you want. It's a place only the senseis know about. Plus me."

Oil Slick is tempted, but it also sounds like an attempt to get him alone to make-out. "Maybe."

Tap-Out looks a bit smug at Prowl and says, "You won't be interrupted."

Absolutely an attempt to get him to make-out. "Another time." He will most likely want to do it when he's older. He knows that he likes being kissed by the bot when he dreams. He hopes that it is just a sign that he'll adore being with the other ninjabots when he's older.

Tap-Out nods, then turns to Prowl, "How about you? Want to ... practice our stealth?"

"Sure." Prowl wraps an arm around Tap-Out and tugs him close. "Jazz showed me how to do this thing with my glossa. I want to show you too."

Oil Slick watches them go, whispering to each other, and shakes his head. Bots got weird when they got older, and he's dreamed about kissing his bot with glossa a lot. It felt really nice in the dreams, and it make his chest feel warm.

He wraps his arms around his chest, remembering it, and almost falls over when he has another sudden flash of being pulled into a spontaneous dance and getting dipped, his wings brushing the ground as he laughed in joy. He pants when he comes back to himself, and shakes his head to clear it.

He doesn't have time for this, and wishes it would just stay in his dreams. It is so much less embarrassing to do this in recharge, rather than were his senseis can possibly see him.

Sensei Road Rocket had pulled him aside a few stellar cycles ago and asked him about the times he was zoning out in class. Oil Slick had stammered his way through an explanation that he wasn't recharging well, and Road Rocket hadn't bought it at all.

Fragging ninjabot senseis were too good at knowing when he was lying about something.

He just worked extra hard to avoid zoning after that.

He shakes his head, and returns to his sculpture. He has to get this done, and there's no better time to do it than now.

He hums a song he barely remembers under his venting, singing the words he knows softly, and works on his carving.

* * *

><p>Oil Slick rubs his optics, having just sat up in his berth. Checking the time on his internal chronometer, he keeps from groaning. It is too late to go back to recharge, but too early to get up. Sighing softly, he rubs his chestplates, feeling a bit like he was kicked in the spark. His dreams are upping in intensity, and know he is almost certain he knows who his mystery bot is.<p>

Blitzwing.

It doesn't make sense for him to be dreaming about Blitzwing. To dream about him before he even knew Blitzwing's name.

No. It makes more sense that he must have dreamed about a bot vaguely like Blitzwing, and then his fevered processor latched onto that bot's name and image when he learned about him at school.

His spark feels funny again, pulsing like that time the medic pumped charge into him to make sure his cables were all working okay. He rubs his chestplates again, and gets out of his berth. He's going to go to the obstacle course, and see if that will help clear his processor.

He'll need to set it so it isn't as high as he normally puts it, since he's running badly because of all the interruptions that he's been getting about his mystery - or maybe not so mystery? - bot. If he puts it too high, his creators will hear it, as well. They'll want to join him if they do. Sadly, even at how badly he's doing, their best isn't really as good as what he's doing.

As much as he loves his mamas, it is frustrating to have to hold back when all he wants to do is stop thinking.

Well, what he really wants to do is grind his sparkplates on something, but that's stupid, and doing his obstacle course is better for him. Especially now that he's just about reached his full size, which is really tall for a cyclebot. It helps that he has very long, thin limbs. Mama Glitterfrost said it came from her side of the family.

He wonders if he has seeker in him. Since he's fairly sure he's a seeker in his dreams. But he can't bring himself to ask either of his mamas. Not when looking in the mirror shows how he isn't really going to pass any beauty contests. He doesn't really like that, actually, but he lives.

Even if he always has this nagging feeling that he should be the prettiest bot anyone has ever seen. He has his voice and he can draw. He is the _best_bot at singing now. He knows how to do it properly, and was even the lead in the musical just this vorn. Which is pretty amazing since he isn't fully out of sparklinghood just yet.

His spark pulses again, and his processor flashes on an image of Blitzwing stripped to protoform, smiling at him.

Oh, Primus.

He stumbles, but regains his balance quickly. Where the slag had he seen an image of Blitzwing without his armor?

No. His processor was just being oddly specific in making the details up. There was no reason to believe that Blitzwing had a string of protoform decoration lights up his side, or that he made the cutest noises when those lights were nibbled on.

He rubs his optics tiredly. Maybe he should try to recharge instead of doing obstacles.

But...

He doesn't want to dream of the bot his processor insists is Blitzwing. The Decepticon was never sparkbonded, anyway. Sparkbonded bots are celebrated loudly, since they're so rare. The bonding is hard on the spark until they stabilize, and Blitzwing wouldn't have had the downtime to recover from it. He doesn't care, either - no matter how much his spark protests that thought. He just needs to focus on his reflexes, and doing obstacles will help.

He just needs to focus, anyway.

Even if he wants to rub himself on things. He's pretty sure that won't help at all, especially if he gets caught doing it. So he'll race.

Oil Slick turns on the obstacle course-his creators are relatively wealthy, in that they can afford the complex track like this. Most paired femmes are given better deals on things like this, which helps, though all the upgrades they've added over the vorns were financed by themselves.

He sets it on a quiet course, not wanting the drones to fire shots at him.

He takes a deep inhalation before diving headfirst into the track. He'll focus on this, and keep his processor off of Blitzwing. Which will be a bit difficult when he keeps flashing back to the image of the jetbot in protoform.

He wishes he knew why the thought of it makes his spark hot.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

Porn Removed from this chapter

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

><p>He rubs his optics tiredly with one servo, and pushes Tap-Out away with the other. "I'm just not interested. I know you've offered before. Several times, even. I just don't want to make-out."<p>

The minibot crosses his arms, giving him a confused look. "_All _ninjabots want to. Why don't you?"

He flashes to himself in Blitzwing's arms, being held close as the bot kisses him and murmurs how they'll love each other forever, since they were blessed by the Allspark itself with their bond, and how they'll never need to worry about someone trying to steal the other away. He pushes the thought away, spark hurting, "I just don't."

Tap-Out stares at him. "Are you one of those sparkbonded bots we learned about in our interfacing ed' courses? They're the only ones we don't lose points for if they turn us down."

Oil Slick knows all about the score boards, even if he doesn't participate in them. And has no plan in joining, even when he's officially old enough. "I'm just not interested. You have to respect my choice when I tell you no." They're allowed to nag for a decacycle, but then they have to back off and cannot ask again for a stellar cycle, and then for a vorn. Ninjabots don't want to pressure their lovers into interfacing.

The smaller bot looks at him with confused optics, but nods. "I'll leave you be for now, then."

The bot tries to fade into the shadows, but Oil Slick can tell that Tap-Out is still in the room and in the ceiling. Along with several other ninjabots.

He's fairly sure that sensei Sparkride - whose name he now realizes is incredibly _filthy_- is in one of the better areas to not get caught, and was observing how he reacted to Tap-Out's advances. He wonders if he passed or not.

Or if it was a test at all.

Ninjabots are rarely given overt tests unless it is something like what they'd normally learn in normal school. But even then, it is slightly more geared to being sneaky about it.

He knows he can't be tossed out of ninjabot school even if he doesn't pass the interfacing lessons, because those aren't required. So he can't be required to make-out with his fellow students.

He sighs, and picks up his datapad, trying to finish reading about Lord Megatron's reasons for creating the Decepticon faction. He just wishes he wouldn't get flashes of Lord Megatron's spark and a bizarre set of secondary sparkplates that were _purple _every time he passes the leader's name. That means he can't be a sparkbonded bot, even if he was a reincarnated spark.

He rubs his optics, pushes the datapad away, and sighs. "Sensei, did you need anything?" He doesn't look up, but from how the bot lands, he knows he was wrong about which sensei was watching him.

Sensei Horsepower - he's kind of convinced that him and Sparkride mimic each other's way of hiding style - walks over to him and sits on the table, "Just seeing how well you can catch a bot. You're doing really well."

He taps the datapad, "If only I could do as well with history or crystal identifying."

"You make better than passing grades in both subjects, sparkling," he's pulled into his sensei's arms, and Oil Slick offlines his optics to enjoy the hug better. "You wanna tell me why you keep rejecting your classmates? Most bots your age love making out. And your last medical scan revealed that your spark was mature enough for interfacing with the other older sparklings."

A scowl, "I just don't want to."

He's rocked back and forth, and his back rubbed, "You want to explain why?"

He _can't_ explain. He's not a sparkbonded bot since Blitzwing is well known - he found this out after a bit of research - for liking _Shockwave_, and he has memories of 'facing Megatron and other bots. All of the datapads he read on sparkbonds said that it isn't possible to have memories of 'facing any bot but your bonded. Even if it was possible, he'd have to figure out if it was Blitzwing, Megatron, Starscream, and all sorts of other Decepticons.

He doesn't know.

He tells his sensei that, and Horsepower hums, rocking him still. "It's alright, sparkling. Sometimes we don't know why we feel the way we do. I'm sure you'll understand it more as time passes. It will be alright."

Oil Slick curls up against his sensei and drifts off into recharge.

There were lots of berths in the ninjabot school, and some of them were in rooms that even had a relatively good level of privacy. Oil Slick had picked this one because all the corners were lit, and there were no rafters in the ceiling. Nothing short of pure hologram technology would hide a bot here.

He lays back on the berth and stares up at Prowl. "So, you promise you'll be gentle, right? I've never done this before."

The black and gold cyclebot climbs on top of him, kissing up his frame - he knows he's supposed to feel a warmth work through him because of the memories of Blitzwing doing exactly that, but all he can feel is a growing sense of unease - and murmurs, "Of course. I want you to be happy and know how wonderful it is." Prowl's fingers rub his hip kibble, "Would you like to connect cables?"

He shakes his head, forcing himself not to look away, "No. I'm fine without them."

Prowl's mouth is soft as the bot lathes kisses along his seams, "It will be even better if we do. I could make it absolutely fantastic for you, and you'll wonder why we haven't been doing this before."

His mind flashes to Blitzwing, the jetbot sitting at his side and murmuring how much he's loved, and he knows exactly why he's kept refusing. He is only doing this to see if the actual thing is as good as his dreams keep telling him it is. "Still no."

One of his cables gets pulled out, and Prowl licks the end of it, sending a little crackle of pleasure to his spark. "It feels _really_good."

Oil Slick reaches down and takes the cable from him, spooling it back inside. "I know you get more points if you get me to cable link with you, Prowl, but I'm not interested. You'll just have to settle for a triple score and not get any of the bonuses."

Prowl pouts, his visor going dim, "You're not fair, Oil Slick. There are _lots_ of bonus points in cable linking, _and_it feels really good."

He gives the mech a flat look, "If you try again, I'll just leave." Then go to the medical bay for the medic to install the cable bay cover he'd been thinking about getting. He's taken up chemical experimentation, and that will be easier than the individually capping and trapping them he'd have to do himself if he's planning on continuing 'facing. He may do capping and trapping later, but the cable bay cover will work while he's still in school.

Prowl pouts again, nuzzling his frame, and kissing the tops of the cables, "You're welcome to pull out all of mine and play with those. I _love_having my cables played with."

No. "Maybe." He has no intention of touching Prowl in a way that encourages cable connection, and he's not going to do it. If he wants to play with cables, he'll play with his own. At home. Where there aren't ninjabots sneaking around at all times.

His mamas already upgraded the soundproofing on his room, snickering and giggling with each other the entire time.

It had been so slagging embarrassing.

Oil Slick reaches up and drags Prowl down for a kiss, letting his glossa map out the shape of his lips, and the weird wiggliness of his glossa. It's nowhere near as nice as his dreams of kissing Blitzwing are. He bets Prowl isn't half as sexy in protoform either.

Prowl hums into the kiss, squeezing Oil Slick's hips. "You know, if you were a little bit thinner, you'd have femme hips?"

He's been told this by several of the senseis. One of them even talking about mods. Something in him has felt insistent he _get_superficial mods, but only really for his face. Every time he looks in a mirror he feels like he just isn't right. But his senseis never make mention of it at all. He isn't sure if that's because they're too polite to tell him he's hideous, or because some bots really do love a gigantic nose. Hips and a few other frame things get pointed out to him, but never his face.

"I have femme creators. That isn't really surprising." He wishes Prowl would stop playing with his frame and get this over with, but he knows in the datapads he was given instead of attending the more in depth 'facing lessons that his spark is really too _cold_ to be 'faced right now and Prowl is trying to get him all revved. He isn't sure he'd be _able_to get all revvy with Prowl doing this. He gives the mech a blank look then says, "Get out the chains."

Prowl's engine revs with want, and he pulls out a length of chain and a pair of cuffs. Really lightweight ones, the only ones allowed for sparklings that have not quite reached adulthood yet. "How do you want me to chain you down?"

Oil Slick stretches his arms up over his head, putting his wrists up near the top of the berth, where it should be very easy for Prowl to restrain him.

Chains loop around his wrists, and the cuffs-sized a bit too small to put on his wrists - get used to link the chains to the metal rings in the wall, which had always puzzled Oil Slick as a sparkling. His spark heats a tiny bit more at that, and he feels a tiny bit more comfortable in the berth. He dims his optics, trying to get more into the feeling of being 'faced, only to be distracted by Prowl's whispers of assurances. He supposes that's part of the advanced 'facing classes to make the bot that is tied down fell less trapped, but he doesn't need that.

He looks at Prowl flatly, "If I wanted to get out, I could get out. Get this over with already."

He is seriously losing what little mood he had for this.

"If you don't want this, we won't do it," Prowl promises, reaching up to undo the chains, and Oil Slick shoves his chest up at Prowl, grinding his spark on Prowl's armor. "I . . guess that means you do want it?"

He's barely hot enough to self-service, let alone interface, but he does want to try this. "Do it."

* * *

><p>"That," Prowl rubs at his sparkplates, "wasn't very good. Want to try again?"<p>

He is certain it won't get any better, so slips out of the chains and snaps his chamber closed. "No." He sits up, getting off the berth, "I'm going to go do something I was planning on doing."

Prowl perks up, "What is it? Want me to help?"

He has no interest in getting help from anyone as he works to individually cap and trap his cables, since he wants _something_to distract himself from the horrible feeling. "I'm going to the medical bay to mod my frame for lab work. You won't be able to help."

Dismay covers the bot's face. "No. It wasn't _that_bad of an interface, was it?"

Oil Slick scoffs, "I was going to do this before we interfaced, Prowl. Don't think that you've changed my processor on the subject. I want to be safe with the more dangerous chemicals, and that has nothing to do with how lackluster it was 'facing you." He shouldn't be cruel. There was nothing Prowl did wrong, other than not being Blitzwing, but he's too hurt right now to be kind.

He leaves before the bot can say anything, hating how much is spark is crying out for a bot he can not have. Blitzwing is not a sparkbonded bot, and is with Shockwave. He's already done research to make sure, and there have been _several_pictures of kisses, and even a few video recordings of them feeling each other up.

He isn't going to get the bot his spark apparently longs for, so he will focus on work. He loves working in the lab, and he knows he does well in there. Mods will only help him with being a ninjabot if he chooses to do it now, and he can do crystal carving and singing in his spare time.

Maybe, if he's very lucky, his work will get noticed by Megatron when he's older, and he'll be recruited high enough up in the chain of command that he won't be expected to serve as a Decepticon berthtoy, despite his size, and he might get a chance to slowly work on testing to see if Blitzwing is interested in having him as a lover.

But that is going to be many, many decavorns from now, and it's a waste to plan for that. Especially if the relationship with Shockwave becomes more serious.

He will end up spending most of the money he earns on mods to his frame that are practical. No matter how much he wants to justify it, modding his face pretty isn't practical. Maybe when he's older he will. But, for all he knows, Blitzwing likes bots that aren't super pretty. He _is_with Shockwave.

That creeper bot always freaks him out.

He makes his way into the medical bay, and waves at the medic as he walks by him. He'd already explained what he might be doing, and had gotten permission for it, so he just grabs the box filled with cable caps to use. He has his subspace filled with the tools he needs and the various traps he's designed, so all he needs is a quiet place to work.

His mamas are going to be so proud when they find out that he managed to get an internship at one of the science labs in the city. Even if it's mostly fetching energon for other bots, it's good experience for him.

But they do require certain safety measures, and Oil Slick wants to have them in place so he'll be allowed to work in the labs if they decide to let him.

* * *

><p>The lab is enormous, and amazing. They had to give him a special security chip to allow him inside, and it had been safely implanted in his servo so he could pass through the safety doors without any trouble.<p>

He's only going to be watching the lab procedures and getting energon during breaks, but it isn't a bad job. He will be able to use it as a reference, and get a better one later. Unless he gets put in a better place here. He is planning on going to the main science university, though, so he won't be able to work as much as they want him to. He has this, ninjabot school, and working on his application for the university.

He knows he can do it.

He is wandering around the labs unobtrusively for a few megacycles before he fades into view by one of the scientists, "You're about to put the PB3 IOA into the heat when you need to leave it off for another breem. You either need to do a rapid cooling or bring the other chemicals up to a matching temperature."

The bot stares at him, and then at the chemical he's holding, "Oh, Primus. You're right." He sets the vial down, and rubs his optics. "I think that's a sign that I need to get home for recharge, if I've been here so long I'm getting corrected by our intern." The bot smiles, "Would you like to finish the experiment for me? Steelslice will watch you to make sure you don't get injured."

Oil Slick's spark pulses with joy. "I'd love to."

The bot steps to the side after doing a quick check on his safety precautions; the other interns aren't actually as well equipped as he is, since they aren't expected to do anything dangerous. The bot smiles, "Looks like you even have the seals on your plates."

He does, they're there to keep any fumes out. When he has more money, he's going to modify himself to not need the highly visible temporary ones, but they work for now. "Safety is of the highest importance." Or so the sign in the front says. Something in him says that safety is the responsibility of the bot doing the work. If a bot can't do it and gets themselves slagged, that is because they weren't careful enough.

This is another reason he plans on joining the Decepticons. The neutrals and Autobots don't have that opinion, and he knows he was a Decepticon in his past life. He just wishes he didn't feel so alone as he did it.

He gets the feeling that Mama Wildstar would consider joining the Decepticons, but does not because Mama Glitterfrost is so set on staying neutral. He just hopes it won't break their sparks when he eventually joins.

Oil Slick mixes the chemicals the way that they should be, listening to the careful advice of Steelslice as he walks him through the procedure. Oil Slick could do this in his recharge, but he doesn't mind listening.

He finishes easily, and Steelslice smiles, "You're a natural at this."

He isn't. He's practiced over and over so he can get all of it perfect, but he knows that pointing this out won't help him. "Thank you."

The bot takes him by the arm, and slowly pulls him along, "I think you could be trusted to do more than just energon and observing. Let's go ask the boss if I can have you as an assistant."

Already, he's being promoted. ... he could get used to this.

* * *

><p>This sol was his best chance at getting a good position in the Decepticon ranks. Megatron himself was visiting Haydon IV, and Oil Slick had a chance to get himself noticed. He even has his resume all ready to send to Megatron if he wants it.<p>

Most of the time, Megatron does not ask for a resume. He just knows.

However, he can't go out to see the bot, since he's working in the lab. He's long since gone beyond Steelslicer's lab assistant, and is working alongside him as an actual scientist. He's working on building up his savings, but that's a little hard since he's moved out of his mamas' house to be in an apartment nearer to work. The most frustrating part of the apartment is that the landlord refuses to give him a stable lease.

It will be nice if he gets hired by Megatron, but if he gets ignored, he's at constant worry that he'll suddenly have the apartment pulled out from under his peds at the landlord's whims.

The bot is sort of scummy, because he keeps slyly hinting that he could get a stable lease if he were to visit the bot's berth occasionally, and Oil Slick would rather dip himself in a smelting pool than slip into that bot's berth.

It's utterly disgusting. So he'll be avoiding it, and he really hopes he gets the job with Megatron. At least that's stable, even if he's going to have to refuse a branding this go-around. He likes his optics green. They're the one feature he adores about his face.

Megatron is making the way around the lab with Starscream. That isn't something he's looking forward to, either. Not since he finally got enough of the memories of his past life. He was a seeker of all things, and Starscream was his flock leader. It is something he's going to have to be careful about. Something deep in his spark is telling him to keep his secret, not to let them know.

He isn't really sure if that's a good idea or not, but sparks know things even when the processor doesn't have a clue. A processor is too easily hacked and wiped, while a spark remembers and knows when danger can happen around a bot.

He isn't sure if Starscream did something terrible to him in the past life or what, but he's not going to allow himself to be caught alone with the seeker.

He just wishes he knew his name, so he could do research and find out if he _had_done something to deserve Starscream's malice or if the fear was for some other reason. Then again, seeker flock politics tended to be kept very close, and it was unlikely that they would have allowed it to get out into public record.

Oil Slick had considered polishing himself to a perfect shine this sol, but he really _doesn't_want to be seen as 'small berthtoy' by the Decepticon leader. He's an acceptable level of clean, better than most of his fellow sciencebots, some of which have to be forced into the washrack because they forget to clean up each decacycle.

He focuses on working, and it isn't long before Megatron comes into the lab. He glaces up for a moment, but returns to work. He knows that drawing attention isn't really the best idea when the Decepticon leader is on tour. If only because if he doesn't get hired by Megatron, he'll get reprimanded for trying.

He'd normally do it anyway, but he _does_have to pay rent and other things. Going back to his creators' house would be embarrassing beyond belief.

Megatron looks over everyone as Whistlehook prattles on and on about things that are happening, only to have the Decepticon leader look over his shoulder. The mech hums thoughtfully, while Starscream looks sulky - a expression that Oil Slick doesn't remember happening a lot when the seeker was next to Megatron before - and says, "So this is the ninjabot scientist?"

Oil Slick looks at Megatron from the side of his optics, "Yes. I am. I was not expecting that you would have heard of me."

A servo brushes his side lightly, and Oil Slick fights the urge to smack the Decepticon leader's fingers for the touch. It's instinctive, and very difficult to ignore. "When Shockwave," the name of the bot triggers hatred in him, hatred that the bot is interfacing _his_Blitzwing, "tells me to pay attention to a bot, I listen to him. You are supposed to be very intelligent, and very. . . creative in the chemicals you have been producing."

He pushes the possessive feeling in his spark away to answer calmly, thankful that his training stopped him from so much as twitching, "I know all sorts of different applications for them, yes." He nimbly moves out of the way of Starscream's claws when the seeker tries to poke him, "And am happy to apply them in all sorts of ways."

Megatron's optics dim, "Really? Would you like to discuss that with us in ... private?"

That is both an invitation for a job and to be their berthtoy. He has only interest in one, but the way it was said means that Megatron doesn't think there can be one without the other. He's going to have to pull out something he normally plays close to his chest, but is directly related to that. "A private talk would be most welcome, but I'm sorry to say that I would be unable to only respond to one side of that offer."

The look he receives in answer is not friendly. "Really? I believe we _should_move to a more private location." Megatron stares at the bots in the lab, and they all get up en masse and flee, leaving the room vacant save for Megatron, Starscream, and Oil Slick.

The seeker makes a noise of disgust and prods Oil Slick's shoulder decoration, "You cannot possibly be thinking of taking this to our berth."

Megatron's optics are dim, and the grey bot leans down, "I don't see why not. Shockwave," another pulse of anger and possessiveness from his spark at the name, and he's going to have to learn to control that if he gets hired, "is very knowledgeable about what potential hires are like. He is modified enough to take an inhibitor."

An unmodified inhibitor, actually, but he's never going to be using one. He focuses on what he's working on, "I will not be able to join you in the berth."

"An inhibitor?" Starscream asks, as if Oil Slick had not spoken at all. "For how long?" Claws stroke his frame, and Oil Slick allows it, if only because his senses are screaming at him to allow his flock leader whatever liberties he demands. "I would want it to be long enough to thoroughly enjoy his spark."

Oil Slick vents slowly, "I cannot join you in the berth."

Megatron smirks, "About five overloads against him. More if we use him longer, and allow a resting time between each."

Starscream looks delighted at that, "Well, I'm willing to ta-"

He speaks louder this time, interrupting to get their attention, "I _cannot_join you in the berth. It is not a matter of willing, I am unable to." His flock leader is allowed to drag him off to be used whenever the bot wants, regardless of how he feels about it himself. Except for this.

Starscream gives him a confused look, "What kind of ninjabot isn't able to join a bot in the berth?"

"The kind that has been dreaming of their past sparkbonded bot since they were a sparkling," Oil Slick answers simply, putting a little glass stopper in the vial of chemical solution he had been mixing. He can feel their optics on him.

"You claim to be a reincarnated sparkbonded bot?" Starscream's claws grip his shoulders. "What is the designation of your sparkmate?"

Oil Slick wants to roll onto his back and open up for his flock leader, and _this_ was the reason he couldn't let himself too close to the cursed seeker. "I do not know," he lies smoothly. "I have been remembering very slowly." He doesn't even know if he really _is_a sparkbonded bot. He could just be a reincarnated seeker that was Blitzwing's lover and never was able to actually sparkbond. It happens when a bot loves another so much their spark refuses to go to the Well.

It hurts him more than he can say that he is a bot doomed to always want a bot that has long since moved on. Be it by choosing another bot, or by going to the Well on their own. He should be the one in Blitzwing's berth, and Shockwave should be left to be alone forever.

Megatron looks at him, furrowing his optics ridges and tilting Oil Slick's head up. "Do you know what model type your bot is?"

"He was a jetbot." Blitzwing has since had a reformat into something like a triple-changer, and from what Oil Slick has seen, it hasn't done much for his stability. Blitzwing was always swinging between moods. At least now he does it visibly. "I don't know much more."

"What color was he?" Starscream asks, and then prods at his frame once more, "And what model were you? I do not know of many fliers that would choose to bond with such a tiny cyclebot."

He moves away, "He was purple, and I only know I was something that flew before. My senseis think I used to be a jetbot, as well." He never let them find out he was a seeker. He may not like his face, but he loves his voice. If he was found out by Starscream, the mech could insist on a reformat. He has no interest in returning to being a seeker, not with how his spark cowers in fear at the thought.

Starscream must have done _something_to him for him to be so worried about it.

If not, he would not fear his flock leader so badly.

Oil Slick finally ducks away from their groping, invasive touches, refusing to let them stroke his frame any longer. "I would love to work for you as a sciencebot, Lord Megatron," he says calmly from his perch atop a nearby table. "I cannot join you in your berth, as much as that may dismay me. I have attempted to interface in the past, and it has never been pleasant." 'Facing Prowl had made him withdraw afterwards so badly, he barely did more than answer questions in class.

He can not risk that again.

Starscream returns to looking sulky, and Megatron gives him a searching look for a long moment. "Shockwave," he _really_needs to control his anger at the name, "says that you would be worth hiring. I am perfectly willing to have you join us as soon as possible."

He'll happily drop this one this very moment, but he knows he can not. Closing up projects is far more important, and he is most likely going to have to move back to his creator's house for a little bit before he leaves the planet. They'll be glad to have him, since they keep dropping hints about how much they hate him in his current apartment. "I just need to do some arranging here and I can leave."

"Very well. I expect you to arrange your things, and you will return to New Kaon with us this sol."

Oil Slick ducks his head, "I need a stellar cycle, my liege. I cannot leave sooner, or my creators will be quite upset."

Megatron taps his fingers on the table top, and then nods, "Then you have a stellar cycle. You will find the credits necessary for the trip in your account. If you need more, you will need to inform Shockwave of it."

He doesn't want to talk to the bot that stole _his _Blitzwing, but he'll live if he has to. He's going to be working in close conjunction with the higher ranking Decepticons because of this, and he'll need to get used to Shockwave. "Yes, my Lord."

Starscream looks bored now, "Let's continue with the tour, then. I want to see what else they're working on. Oil Slick is going to have a program put in him that makes it so he can't discuss what was going on, and I want to be able to on my own, anyway."

He kind of wonders if the reason he's a scientist now is because his flock leader is one, and something inside of him wants to do everything it can to impress Starscream.

He gets the feeling that his past self was not very good at science, and that it was a disappointment to Starscream.

Now Starscream's flock is nearly all offline, with a few exceptions of distant seekers in far away posts that were never close to the central core of the flock. Oil Slick wants to comfort his leader any way he can. If being a brilliant sciencebot will help, he will be brilliant. The most ruthless, intelligent sciencebot possible.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>

Porn removed from this chapter, check out my livejournal.


	4. Chapter 4

Transformers Belongs to Hasbro

* * *

><p>He sits at the dining table at his creator's house, toying with his almost empty cube of energon, bored out of his processor and slightly irritated. "No, Mama Glitterfrost, I am not going to back out of this. I've already told you that it is pretty much exactly what I want."<p>

His blue creator puts her servos on her hips, "But _Decepticons_, Oil Slick? Really?"

He didn't want to have this conversation in person, but this is just how it turned out. "Yes. I'm certain I was a Decepticon before. I'll make sure Megatron doesn't mark me, though. I like my optics."

"But I _know_ you'll end up one of his favorite bots, and he _always_marks his favorite bots," Glitterfrost complains, tapping her ped impatiently on the floor.

Oil Slick smiles, "I am a ninjabot, mama. I will have no problem avoiding his brand." He knows exactly how much it hurts and exactly how much he wants to avoid having that electrified metal touch his armor. He would use the most permanent of paints without worry, if Megatron asked, but he would not let himself be branded again.

She waggles a claw at him, "He has other ninjabots, you know. He could have _them_hold you down as you get branded."

He keeps from rolling his optics, focusing on his energon cube, "They tried to get the entire class to hold me down once, mama. I'm not going to be caught."

She glares down at him, "And what if they chain you up? I know how distracted you get when you're covered in chains."

He really, _really_wishes his mamas had knocked that time. They soundproofed his room so they didn't see those things, and the one time he felt comfortable enough to pull out the chains, they come barging in. He's never going to live that down. "I can still escape no matter what."

"Of course you can, sparkling. But it's only natural for us to worry about you. We're your mothers, and you want to join up with a mech notorious for branding his favorites. That includes his ninjabots."

They are obsessed with that fact. "I won't let him brand me." Oil Slick taps his claws on the table. "I will let him know that branding me will cause me to retreat to a ninjabot planet and plot against him. If he wants my loyalty, he has to offer me some level of respect."

His mothers frown at him, and Glitterfrost pokes him with her sharp femme claws, "And you think that _Megatron_ will give you respect? He's a _Decepticon_. There are lots of good neutral leaders you could join, you know."

He looks over to Mama Wildstar pleadingly, she's always been more willing to accept Decepticons. Sadly, she isn't on his side with this, "He will brand you, and you'll lose your beautiful green optics to horrible red ones. I don't want you going, sparkling."

He rubs his head, "No he won't." He looks at them both, "I'm going to be going even if you don't approve, mamas. You can't stop me."

"If this is truly what your spark desires, you can have it, sparkling," Wildstar says reluctantly. "The Decepticons are a good bunch, even if they're going to eat you up like candy." She waves a servo at him, "You're tiny and you'll end up servicing their sparks more than you'll work in your lab. I hope you're ready to rip sparks out if you want any respect at all among them."

He blanches at the thought, "I'm _not_'facing any of them."

She smiles, a hard line of her mouth with a tiny quirk to one side, "Good. You're my sparkling, and I don't want you to be their toy."

He keeps from rolling his optics, "I wouldn't allow it, mama."

She tugs him out of his chair, and Mama Glitterfrost moves closer as well, the both of them hugging him possessively. "Good." He's kissed on the head, "We love you, you know."

He sighs softly, letting them hold him, "I know. I love you, too."

"Let him know that we expect you to come visit us at least twice a vorn. Four times if you have to stay away a vorn or more on a mission." Wildstar pinches his cheek. "And if you're missing a full decavorn, then we get you for several stellar cycles. Got it?"

Making demands of Megatron before even joining the Decepticons was foolish. It was reasonable to let him know he did not intend to take a brand for any reason. But he's not going to demand time off when Megatron is known for working his sciencebots hard.

But he also knows better than to disagree when his creators are like this. "Yes, mamas." He pulls away, "But I need to go now. I'm going to be-"

He's grabbed tightly around his waist, Mama Wildstar making sure he doesn't leave, "Like frag you are, sparkling. You can wait until we're done holding you. You aren't leaving for New Kaon until next decacycle, and you're going to be moving in with us until then."

He kicks his peds like an angry sparkling, "Put me down, mamas! This is-"

"Ooh, we have a comcall," Glitterfrost says, and then blinks. "A comcall from Lord Megatron?"

"Put me _down_" he hisses, kicking harder, aware that he's only making it look worse.

"Good evening, Lord Megatron," Glitterfrost says coldly when she accepts the call. "I understand that you are trying to lure our sparkling to your side? I will have you know that neither of us approve of this."

He's not the least bit happy that he's being held so he can't see the screen, especially when Megatron chuckles. "He is a grown mech, madam Glitterfrost. He is allowed to make any decisions on his own."

Oil Slick flinches at that, it is only going to antagonize his creators. He's proven right when Mama Wildstar hisses, "Stop staring at his aft!" He's spun around fast enough to make him just a little dizzy, even with all his training. "He's our _sparkling_."

He manages to get his bearings fairly quickly, and the first thing he notices on the screen isn't Megatron clearly leering at him - obvious though it is-, but is the purple triple-changer in the background. It isn't the jetbot he sees in his dreams all the time, but it is instantly obvious that it is General Blitzwing. His spark does a small jolt of happiness, and he almost falls over from it.

He needs to leave before he does anything foolish.

The next thing he knows, he's in his room from rushing away, and the door is locked firmly as he leans, panting, against it. After a little bit, he smacks himself in the face. He just did something incredibly foolish when he pulled the disappearing act.

Megatron is going to wonder why he ran. Might even realize it was because of Blitzwing, and nothing good will come of that. Hopefully he'll take it as Oil Slick trying to escape his creators instead, but he has no guarantee of that.

He rubs his sparkplates absently, trying to calm his pulsing spark. He hopes that Blitzwing does not feel this way when he sees him.

He cracks open his door, and he can hear his creators screaming about how Megatron _clearly_scared him away, and how horrible the Decepticon leader is. He closes the door, and silence reigns.

... His first sol at work isn't going to be much fun.

* * *

><p>Oil Slick taps his claws absently on the arms of the chair in the spaceship he's taking to New Kaon. Well, actually, he has his own private room he's in, since it is such a long trip there when they can't use Autobot space bridges, but that doesn't mean he's not irritated. His mothers somehow managed to get everything they had wanted from him and <em>more<em>out of Lord Megatron.

And he hadn't listened in to know how they had done it.

It was frustrating, to say the least.

He vents and lays back, sliding his claws up his frame lightly, testing his sensitivity. He's prepared to have Megatron try and pull him in the berth. He will be a very tempting target, since he has resisted the mech thus far. Even the vids the mech has sent him, including the one of Starscream having his spark fragged while he moaned Oil Slick's name have not swayed him in his position.

His spark is firmly attached to Blitzwing, and there is nothing he can do about it.

He groans unhappily, lifting his peds up to the chair, burying his head in his knees, optics offline. He wishes he knew _why _his spark was acting like this. That small glance of the mech did nothing but increase his dreams and the feeling of longing he has.

He wishes he knew _why_this was happening. He has all the classic symptoms of a bot that had a sparkbond, but this is with a bot well known to not have bonded at all.

Bots did not _hide_ sparkbonds. Blitzwing is on record as not having a bond, and was being rumored to have _many _lovers over the course of his life, though the rumors always center around Shockwave. A bot never recovered from a sparkbond like that. Never.

If he was with Shockwave, then there was no way Blitzwing had been bonded.

And Oil Slick was just a lovesick spark that had chosen to reincarnate to better stalk the spark it loved. Loved without reciprocation.

He liked it more when he had thought that he was a reincarnated bot that had his bonded not follow him out of the Well.

He rubs his optics into his knees, spark hurting now. He could just drop into Lord Megatron's berth and try to be happy, but that wouldn't work. He's _never_going to be a berth bot. If he gives up and allows it, he's just going to stay there and never be the scientist he knows he can be.

He's going to work for Scalpel, for Primus's sake. Scalpel is even smaller than him, and is well known for being absolutely terrifying.

He can do that.

Whatever it takes.

* * *

><p>Flicking fragments of glass off of his frame, Oil Slick strides past the startled mechs and back towards his lab. He's only been here on New Kaon for a single sol now, and it's as good a time as any to establish his reputation.<p>

Oil Slick had been walking through the hall, trying to find his berthroom-he'd stayed in his lab all night long, setting it up to his satisfaction, even if it is only a part of Scalpel's lab that he's been allowed to use. He hadn't even had a chance to meet the tiny mech, yet. Scalpel is apparently on vacation, because he won't be in until the next sol.

But he'd been trying to find a berth, and had very rudely been scooped up by a mech in the mess hall, his head tipped back as a glossa invaded his mouth.

The shattered optics were less than the bot deserved, but more than enough to sate Oil Slick's urge for vengeance.

He imagines that his creators will be proud of him for it, especially since Lord Megatron had apparently promised them that he'd update them once a sol on what Oil Slick was doing. He's hoping Megatron isn't planning on trying to convince his creators to join in the berth as well.

The thought of it makes him shudder in disgust and terror.

They are femmes, and very pushy. Nothing good could come from such a thing. Especially since they'd be pushing his flock leader into things, which will do nothing to help his state of mind in the least.

He's passed Starscream a few times, and it's harder with each bit of contact not to throw himself at Starscream's peds and beg his wingleader for comfort. And Blitzwing . . he hasn't seen Blitzwing much yet, other than a very brief introduction in the throne room.

His spark had trembled with desire, and Oil Slick had to force his optics to stay on the floor and not on Blitzwing the entire time. The triple-changer had stared at him for a very long time as well.

His spark still trembles with want at the thought of the purple mech. Even though the bot somehow has three faces now in addition to being a triple-changer.

He wants to climb into Blitzwing's berth, and tuck himself against the mech's frame.

Sadly, that will never happen. Not with how the bot seems so _very_unstable. If the mech was as rational as the bot in his dreams, he would be tempted to try, but he knows the bot can fly off the handle at the slightest provocation now.

His spark hates how scared he gets at the idea of the bot's Hothead personality crushing him beyond repair for daring to even look at him. He knows the bot has done it to others in the past, and he has no wish for it to happen to him.

If Blitzwing is interested, he will approach on his own. Oil Slick would be willing, at this point, to even suffer a threesome with fragging creeper Shockwave if it means his spark will get to touch the spark of the one it loves. But he won't go out of his way to make that happen. It's a last resort type of way to get at Blitzwing's spark.

Oil Slick brushes off a few shards of optical glass from his seams. He wishes the stuff wouldn't shatter so messily.

He's interrupted from his thoughts by a soft thump on his shoulder, and glancing over, he sees Scalpel sitting on him. The tiny mech adjusts his glasses and looks at him closely, "Vell... zis is not somezing I expected." His headscrew is touched, and he wants to recoil from the intimacy, but keeps himself still. "You are not as pretty as I had hoped vhen Megatron und Starscream say zey vant to frag you."

He resumes walking, "They know I'm a sparkbonded bot that hasn't found his bonded. I'm a novelty for them." Even though he's more of a spark_lost_bot than anything.

Scalpel adjusts his glasses again, looking over the rims at him. "Nein. Zat vould only account for some of his lust for your frame. Ze rest must be because of your size and shape." Scalpel touches his head screws again, sliding his tiny claws along them. "He enjoys seeing ze small bots in his berz viz Starscream."

He moves his head away, not wanting to be touched there again, "I am still not going to be joining them." He has no interest. He just needs to keep ignoring his flockleader's demands, and it will stop happening.

Hopefully.

Scalpel tisks softly, petting his helmet, "Zey _are_fun in ze berz. But, I suppose," the bot waves a tiny servo, "zat it is a bad idea to go so soon to it, ja? Ze bots will see you as nozing but a berz toy." The bot's mandibles click once in satisfaction, "But you took care of zat."

"If I'd had any chemicals with me, I would have made it a more fitting punishment." Melted the bot's servos off, perhaps, or poured something on his sparkplates to weld them shut until a medic removed them entirely. "But you make due with what you have." He shivers when Scalpel pets his head screws again, making his spark slowly heat up.

Scalpel cuddles in close to his neck, "Zat you do." The claws tease at his dome recess, running around the rim of it, "I am told zat you have more zan one way of protecting your head. Maybe you should have zat up when you are just around ze place?"

He smiles, "I can do that."

His neck is pinched, "Not right now, zough. You vill stay like zis viz me." Claws play with his headcrews, "I zink zat ve should go to ze lab, ja?"

"I have already seen it," he admits, wishing the little bot would stop trying to arouse him. "I set up a workspace for myself, and-"

Scalpel hisses and pinches his headscrew sharply, "You have tampered viz my lab?"

He does not flinch, and continues down the hall. "Of course I have. You put a datapad note on the table that told 'Pretty bot' to use that area for his experiments. Did I assume incorrectly that you were referring to me?"

Tiny claws soothe his pinched screw, "Nein. Zat space vas for you. But if you have tampered viz ze rest of my lab, you vill be punished."

He doesn't glare, even though he wants to. "I know better than to change parts of the lab I'm not allowed into."

Scalpel toys with the edge of his helmet, optics dim, "Such a good bot." The mech hums for a moment, and finally tugs his helmet away from his neck, "Did you online viz zis?"

He puts his metal mesh of a helmet back in place, "Yes. It protects my neck cabling. I once took a star to it, and didn't get more than a dent." Prowl was still punished quite severely for it, even if it was an accident. One didn't use lethal force on a fellow student.

Oil Slick gets pinched, and the tiny claws slip up under the helmet again. "It is very nice. Ze screws hold it in place, ja?" Scalpel tugs on it, bringing a bit up to his optics to study. "I like zis. I zink some sol, I vill make you vork vizout it in ze lab. Zat vay, I can admire your bare armor." He dims his optics, "Und perhaps some sol I vill have you vork in your protoform. Viz harmless chemicals, of course."

He sighs softly, "Yes, Scalpel." He knows he won't be able to get out of it. That's just how these sorts of things work with such small bots. They are pushy, or they never get anything. He's just glad that Scalpel isn't a femme in addition to it. That would be a reason to never go to the lab at all.

The little bot makes a tiny, happy chirping sound, "Good." Claws play with his headscrews again, "You will show me ze way your lab space vorks, and zen I vill see if I vant you to change anyzing." Claws dip into the slots on the screws, "It is too bad zat your face is not as pretty as ze rest of you. Maybe ve should do some modification, ja?"

"My creators are fond of my face and my frame. I do not intend to alter or modify myself for any purpose but lab work." Oil Slick plucks Scalpel off of his shoulder and places the bot on the table in the lab. "If you have modification suggestions for labwork, I will happily consider them. I am willing to accept extensive modification to make me a better sciencebot. Modifications for beauty, on the other servo," he shrugs, "I have no interest in. I am not trying to be a pretty berthbot."

The little bot taps his adorable peds on the table, clearly trying to stomp angrily but failing in the cutest way possible. "If I vas going to make you a berzbot, you would have vings und rotors installed as vell."

His spark leaps at the thought of flying, but he keeps his expression neutral as he looks down at his boss. "No. I'm not doing that at all."

Scalpel waves a servo, "I said _if_. Not zat I vould. You are not going to be in my berz all ze time." The bot's optics dim, "Just some of ze time."

He gives the bot a very flat look, then taps his own chest, right above his spark, "Sparkbonded bot that hasn't found his bonded. Not happening."

"Zat does not mean you are currently sparkbonded, little mech," Scalpel croons. "You vill find zat zere are certain . . . zings zat I am capable of doing in ze berz zat ozer bots are not. Some of zhose zings involve chemicals zat should numb ze negative reaction of your spark." He touches Oil Slick's sparkplates. "You vill be villing for me, ja?"

"Not if you treat me like a sparktoy."

The mech smiles at him, petting his plates softly, "Ve vill see, ja?"

He's not telling fragging _anyone_how much he loves chains. Ever. It is a certain way to keep him stuck in a berth and never being let out again.

He moves away, "We'll see." He waves a servo at the corner of the lab he was given, "But I fixed this up. Is it fine, or do I need to change it around?"

"It looks alright." Scalpel skitters over and adjusts one set of glass vials so they are two micrometers to the left of where they had been. "Zere. Now it is better."

Oil Slick stares at him for a long moment, and then sits down. "Of course. That makes all the difference."

"Ja. I am glad you understand," Scalpel skitters across the table, his dainty peds tapping as he walks. It's temping to reach out and tug on those little peds, but Oil Slick knows better than to tempt fate that way.

He taps his claws on the table, watching as Scalpel makes tiny purring sounds. "Is there any project that I needed to get started on?"

The bot tilts his head, then taps over to him, climbing into his lap demandingly, "Ja. Ve Vill be vorking on chemical testing." Oil Slick moves his servo to start petting the smaller bot, "Zat can be done from here, since it is too dangerous to vork viz near a spark." The mech reaches up, and touches his plates, "Even von as vell protected as I am told yours is."

"I intend to increase that protection." Oil Slick lets Scalpel have the controls, flicking on the screen so they can watch the drones move in the next room over. "Some sol, I hope to be modified enough that I can work with any chemical. Even those that are instant death to other mechs."

Scalpel snorts, "Know zat vhen you do, you _vill_end up in Megatron's berz. Likely for a decacycle or two, vizout any breaks."

He waves a servo, "I am very good at escaping. Not even a school of ninjabots, including my senseis, could keep me tied down." Unless he wanted to be, anyway.

Scalpel prods him, "Zat does not _matter_. You vill be in his berz, or you be vizout a job or possibly your spark. He is not a bot zat you can turn down."

He shakes his head, "Sparkbonded bot."

Scalpel gives him a flat look, "You say zat like it vill protect you from all your problems. It vill not, and you need to realize zis. Until you find ze bot you are bonded viz, you are not going to get out of it."

Oil Slick falls silent and watches Scalpel direct the drones to test the chemicals, mixing them as toxic vapors fill up the room. One of the drones has a servo melt, and Scalpel curses, "I hate vhen zat happens."

"I can understand your frustration," Oil Slick takes the controls from Scalpel's servos. He has to use his claw tips to use them, because they are so very small. "You need to rotate the drones to keep them from overheating."

Scalpel frowns at him, mandibles clicking at him angrily, "Zen you do it." The little bot glares from his lap up at the screen while he works. The mech eventually settles down to watch curiously, only stopping him to point out where he can improve.

They work for a solid megacycle doing this, only part way finished, when Shockwave steps in. Looking over at the bot, his spark goes cold with jealousy. _That_is the bot that has his Blitzwing, and he'll never be able to have him if the mech continues to be in his way.

Shockwave strides over to them, claws twitching, "How is my favorite sciencebot this sol?"

Scalpel hisses and rears back on his back legs, front peds held up, points angling forward like weapons, "Shockvave! You know you are banned from my labs!"

Large claws slide over Oil Slick's frame, inspecting him. "I see you have acquired a new bot." Oil Slick is picked up, and he tenses unhappily, "He is smaller than I was expecting. I am quite pleased by your size, Oil Slick."

He squirms a little bit, unsure if he should escape or not, "Let go of me."

The claws drag up his side, "Maybe I should take you to my berth when you are done?"

He is _not_half that desperate to be with Blitzwing. He kicks his servos out, just clipping the mech in the face, not wanting to damage a favored bot. "No."

"No?" Shockwave wraps his claws around Oil Slick's legs. "That is not the answer I like hearing from little bots."

Scalpel hisses up at him, "He is mine. You vill put him down and let us get back to vork, or I vill report zis to Lord Megatron. You know you are not allowed in zis lab vizout him as an escort."

The larger bot sighs and places Oil Slick on the table. "Very well. I will speak to my lord first, and acquire permission to take the pair of you to my berth."

Oil Slick shudders as the mech leaves, and drops to the floor, "Is he always like this?"

Scalpel taps his peds in that approximation of stomping, "He normally does not come into my labs at all, since he knows zat I vill not allow him in!" The bot fumes, arms crossed, "I vill _never_go to zat mech's berz. Ever."

He rubs where Shockwave touched his leg, disliking the clawmark on it. "He is not very... pleasant," he pulls out a cloth and starts to clean up, "to say the least."

Scalpel nods sharply, "Ja. I vould not allow him in at all if I could, but sometime Lord Megatron requires it."

He is Megatron's spy. It is not surprising that the mech allows him wherever he pleases. He probably has his cameras installed even in Megatron's quarters.

In the other room, all the drones have melted into slag, and Oil Slick curses the mech twice over for it. "Fragger just made us start all over again."

"Ja. He has a vay of doing zat." Scalpel taps his peds unhappily on the table, and then skitters on to Oil Slick's lap, curling up against him. "I do not zink Lord Megatron vill order you into zat mech's berz."

"He can't really order me into _his_ berth, so I don't see why being told to go to Shockwave would be any different." Now, if _Starscream_did, that would be a different matter. His flockleader is a bot that his processor keeps screaming at him to obey and tell him that he's there. The seeker is clearly very depressed about his lost flock, even in that tiny glimpse he saw in the dining hall. He can tell his flockleader is only just barely keeping it together about it.

If Megatron isn't careful, Starscream is going to snap and it will be messy. Most likely with a bomb to the back and no one around to witness it. The seeker is well known to not do well without other seekers to brace him.

If Megatron was a wise leader, he would take Starscream to Vos and and help the seeker choose new mechs for his flock. At the absolute least, Starscream would need two companions, so he could find the release of trine-flying and the support of a functional trine.

Perhaps he'll try and hunt down one of the datapads that Oil Slick knows exists, all about seeker flock dynamics, and then leave it on Megatron's throne. It would teach the mech that Starscream _needed_a flock to support him.

And free him from the danger of a reformat if he ever accidentally reveals himself.

He _likes_being a cyclebot, thank you very much. He's not going to lose his singing voice, his hard earned grace in his frame, or any number of other things. He's not returning to seeker frame no matter how much he longs for the sky.

It just isn't what he wants anymore.

Scalpel prods him in the head, "Stop ze daydreaming, my minionbot. You vill be _vorking_. I vill not have zis slacking off."

He smiles, returning his attention to the sealed off lab, "Yes, Scalpel."

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>

And, Moonlight black rose, thank you so much for all those reviews! I'm sorry I couldn't reply to any of them, but you have private messaging off. They made Tash and I smile.


	5. Chapter 5

Took out a bit from near the beginning, if you want to see it, look in my livejournal

Transformers belongs to hasbro

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><p>Megatron's berth is surprisingly comfortable, considering its size. There is a pleasant current running through it, and a soft metal mesh that is well worn in places, proving that it was <em>not <em>just put out to humor the small bot they were bringing for the evening.

There are cuffs laying out on the berth, and Oil Slick has the feeling that he now knows why his creators had such an easy time convincing Megatron to concede to their demands.

He carefully pushes the cuffs away, glad he has his chains hidden in his subspace. If he had put them in his room, he imagines that they'd be here right now. He is trying to figure out how to get out of this without actually running away when Starscream flounces in. He had never actually realized it before, but seekers do a very great deal of flouncing. He knows that movement is used to show how superior to everyone else they are, but he can't help but think of how _silly _seekers look when they do it.

If he ever reincarnates into a seeker again, he's going to have to keep that in mind and not do it.

Assuming his code doesn't override it and make him do it anyways.

Starscream dims his optics, "Ah. You managed to get him into the berth. Wonderful." He approaches Oil Slick and sits down beside him, resting a servo on the berth next to him. "I understand that you have suffered sparkbreak, but we were told that you . . enjoy chains very much." He strokes Oil Slick's wrists, right where cuffs would go. "It should allow you to enjoy the interfacing."

He wants to crawl into Starscream's lap and feel safe in his flockleader's arms. He resists the urge, keeping his expression neutral. "No."

Starscream raises an optic ridge, rubbing him on the tank, "No? You would prefer no chains?"

He pulls away, hating how his spark is yelling at him for denying Starscream. "No."

The seeker gives him a dark look, tugging him back, and rubbing him harshly on his plates. "_Yes_."

He slips away, and it is difficult when all he wants to do is gasp and moan to let his flockleader use him however he pleases. "No." It is also hard to only say no, but he doesn't want to implicate himself in something, and end up exposed.

Starscream narrows his optics and presses his claws into the seams of his sparkplates. "Open."

Refusing his flock leader is harder than ever, "N-no." His locks disengage with a click, and claws push his plates open.

"No, little bot? It is obvious your spark is willing."

He turns his head, forcing himself to push Starscream away and closing his plates as hard as he can. "_No_," and Primus, it is difficult to say it. He wants to be with Starscream to soothe away all the pain of the loss of his flock has done.

Maybe he'll crawl into the seeker's lap when he's working in the lab. He'd be much more willing if Megatron wasn't here. Well, not literally here. They're only in his room and the bot isn't actually her-

Megatron steps into the room, carrying a loose length of chain. "Ah, Oil Slick. I see you were waiting for me," the mech's voice is deep with promise of pleasure. "Won't you lie down?"

His spark throbs at the sight of the chain, and Oil Slick vents harshly for a moment-

Before he vanishes into the rafters and makes his way out of Megatron's quarters as quickly as his frame will carry him. He's going to regret this later, but he can't let the mechs have him. Even if it's a tolerable interface, he can't risk it.

There's no way he can interface with Starscream without calling him his wingleader.

When he's safely out of the commanding officers' hallway, he drops down to the floor. He knows he's allowed to claw at any bot that is about to step on him, and they all need to learn to watch where they walk anyway.

He's stopped about halfway to his room entirely unintentionally by Blitzwing. The mech just stepped out of a side hallway, carrying a datapad, and started walking next to him. He was about to either slow down, or disappear into the rafters again when the bot looks down at him. The mech's blue face is very neutral as he asks, "You are Oil Zlick, aren't you?"

The accent makes his backstrut tingle, it is somehow even better than Scalpel's. "... yes."

The bot taps the datapad, looking at him critically, "You are already drawing all sorts of attention from ze upper ranks. I can tell zat you are very nice, but you are no..." The bot trails off, then shakes his head. "Never mind. Zat is not for you. Return to what you were doing."

"Yes, General Blitzwing," Oil Slick says, and then turns to walk away, "Silly jetbot. You don't have to-"

A servo clamps on his shoulder, and Blitzwing's voice is low and dangerous, "What did you just call me, little mech?"

Oil Slick looks back over his shoulder, "General Blitzwing? Have I done something to upset you?"

The mech gives him a hard look, and there's a small trill of fear from his spark at the thought of the bot suddenly flipping to Hothead. "What did you just call me?"

"... General Blitzwing?" He's not really sure what the mech is talking about, and his spark feels like it wants to leap out of his chamber to cling to the triple-changer.

"Nein. You called me somezing after zat."

Oh.

He'd accidentally used his nickname for Blitzwing. His silly jetbot.

"I was thinking of Starscream," he says softly, hoping the mech will believe his lie. "He," he forces a blush, "wants me in his berth, but I have reason to believe I was sparkbonded, and feel no connection to him at all."

The bot frowns, but pulls away. "... no connection at all?"

He wonders what that is about. Shaking his head, he lies, "No, sir."

The bot lets out a tiny sigh that he wouldn't notice if he hadn't watched it over and over in his dreams, "Very well. You return to what you were doing, zen. I will not bozer you again."

"Thank you, General Blitzwing." Oil Slick watched the mech go with a heavy spark, hating himself for lying to the mech. He wanted to reveal himself.

Of course, it would help if he knew what his past designation had been.

Oil Slick resolves to hunt the information down as soon as possible. He'll have better luck finding out if there were any _rumors _of the pair bonding after he finds out who his spark had been.

He sighs softly, and disappears into the rafters. He doesn't want to deal with the traffic of the hallway now. Not when he would like to just find Blitzwing's quarters and beg for him to accept him here.

He doesn't know himself, and he feels lost and alone.

It isn't a fun feeling, and he is constantly searching for a way to balance himself metaphorically. All his ninjabot training doesn't save him from getting confused when he thinks of his past life. All that does is make him want to lash out at things so that he can get it done and over with.

He was never much of one for meditation.

... Maybe he should start, anyway. It would help him sort things out in his head.

* * *

><p>"Acid Storm?" a familiar, screechy voice asks behind him, and Oil Slick turns to see who has entered his lab.<p>

He frowns at Starscream, "Do you have reason to believe there's another bot hiding in here? Unless someone sent them here for punishment, it's just me and Scalpel." He glances around the lab, "I'm unaware of any other bots here right now, so you can just," he flicks his servos, "get going. I'm certain that Megatron has some use for you."

His wingleader puts his servos at his hips, and gives him a scrutinizing look, "That's odd."

He sighs, "_What _is odd?" He returns to mixing the chemicals like Scalpel had told him to, "If you're just going to make inane comments, you should go talk to someone who isn't working." Fragging flock leader and his insistence that he shouldn't be working in another bot's lab.

Starscream gives him a dirty look, "Normally a sparkbonded bot remembers their previous life's name first."

"You think I was this 'Acid Storm'?" Oil Slick asks. "You had a sparkbonded seeker near you, and you were not trumpeting that fact as loud as possible?"

Starscream waves a servo, "Not that I know of. Acid Storm's lover is acting odd, that's all."

He wonders if Acid Storm was Blitzwing's lover, but can't bring himself to ask. Instead, he returns to work. "That's nice."

The bots stomps over, and he can feel the raised servo that is either to hit or yank him, and he braces himself. So he's surprised when the mech's arm goes back to his side, and Starscream just says, "It isn't _nice _at all."

Oil Slick lowers his optics, his spark trembling with fear and upset. Flock members do not upset their leader like this. "I'm sorry. I know it must be very hard without a flock. Why haven't you gone to get new seekers?"

Starscream drops down beside him, slumping against the table. "Lord Megatron has refused my requests to go to Vos. I believe he fears I will stay there. They would gladly accept me as their leader, and not as a second-in-command."

He reaches over slowly, rubbing right where he knows all seekers love being petted - even if Starscream has a place he loves more, he isn't willing to reveal himself - right on the base of the wings. "Have you reassured him you would not?" He knows that Starscream loves Megatron with all his spark, and would not lose him if he could help it.

The seeker flops on the table, exposing more of his wings, but Oil Slick isn't tempted to explore it, not when his leader is so very depressed. "_Yes_. He doesn't even slagging care. He just wants me there with no care about what I _need_."

Oil Slick taps his claws on a sensitive panel of wing, to soothe the seeker. "Perhaps you should show him the research that shows that flockless seekers are more likely to rebel and suffer depression."

"He won't care," Starscream says morosely, wings slumping down in abject misery. "I have been alone for so long now, and Hailstorm has been on an away mission for three vorns now. Megatron does not care for my suffering."

He rubs the wing just the way Starscream liked it when he was a seeker, and murmurs softly, "I have a datapad on how upset lone seekers get. Would you like to present it to him?"

The mech shakes his head, "He'll just declare I'm trying to trick him or something else."

He isn't sure what to say about that, so he just moves so that he's sitting on the table, and takes Starscream's head into his lap to pet the bot's helmet. "You could have someone else give it to him? Possibly one of the other generals?"

It feels so good to have Starscream like this. To be pampering his wingleader the way the seeker deserves. It's almost impossible to resist the urge to find the bot's wing oils and work them into the delicate seams and folds of his wings.

"No. He still will refuse it for me." Starscream leans back and lets Oil Slick rub his helmet vents.

"A compromise, then? He could have seekers come here to audition for you." Even as he says it, he knows it's wrong. A wingleader went to his planet and selected the best and brightest. The ones who would not be willing to leave the planet unless ordered to do so by their wingleader.

Starscream shakes his head, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding Oil Slick close, "No. No. No. I _must _go."

He rubs his leader's back, "I wish I could help." But he wouldn't be able to, even if he was still in seeker frame. It would just be him and Starscream, and he'd feel lost and broken as well.

The seeker's wings flutter in despair. "I just don't know wha-"

There's an angry chittering coming from behind him, and he can hear Scalpel say, "And just _vhat_ do you zink you are doing to my Oil Zlick? You are _also _not allowed in my lab!"

Wings arch up and away in a display of dominance that has Oil Slick lowering himself submissively. Later, he'll be thankful that the two were too caught up to notice. "I am speaking with him. You do not _own_him, Scalpel. Lord Megatron owns him, and if I choose to speak with him, you cannot stop me. Not even in this lab."

"I am not _owned _by-"

"You are, little mech," Starscream says, pushing him down on the table. "When you took his oath, you gave yourself to him. We all did."

He squirms under Starscream, "I never took any oath." And he didn't. Which is actually quite odd now that he thinks about it. He saw the other bots take one, but he got moved straight to his lab and told to fix it up.

Starscream gives him an odd look, "Yes you did. No one is allowed on base unless they took the oath."

He shakes his head, "I didn't, and I was just dragged here first thing."

The seeker gives him a blank look, "I need to talk to Megatron about this."

Scalpel's peds tap angrily on the floor, "Good! Get out of my lab!"

Claws touch his cheek briefly. "You will be required to take his oath, even if you choose only to wear temporary paint. Even civilians must take his oath. It is a matter of security. If you cannot pledge yourself to him, we cannot have you here on New Kaon working for us. Do you understand, little bot?"

He knows. He remembers the pain of wing brands, and the bright, intense longing to belong to the mech that his wingleader loved so dearly. "Yes."

Scalpel scampers up the table, pushing at Starscream, "You! Out of my lab! Out! Out!"

The seeker stands up, running a claw along Oil Slick's frame, "I am going, Scalpel. You're only upset because he was petting my helmet."

The tiny mech hisses wordlessly, antennae flaring, then soothes himself. "Nein. You vere not supposed to be here. You vill get out."

Oil Slick sits up, picking Scalpel up and putting him on his lap, since he knows the petting _is_the reason the bot is so upset. Rubbing the mech's back, he murmurs, "He misses his flock, Scalpel. It is not a bad thing that he's here."

"He vants your spark, and your spark is mine." Scalpel's optics brighten, "Ja! I know vhat vill show you. Come, come," he skitters off of Oil Slick's lap and back towards the door that separates the lab from Scalpel's quarters. "Come and see! I vant to show you my very special secret."

Oil Slick rises and follows him, curious about what the mech has hidden in his rooms.

The bot stops in front of the door, and looks around cautiously before putting a claw to the little scanner pad next to it. It is one that Oil Slick is fairly sure he could hack if he had wanted to, but it was never something he wanted to risk dealing with. Scalpel moves, pushing his ped, "Go, go. In, in." Another push, and he's walking, "You vill like him, I know it."

He isn't sure _what_ he'll like, but since Scalpel insists on calling whatever it is 'he', Oil Slick imagines he really _won't _like it. All his spark longs for is Blitzwing, and another bot won't really help that.

"Scalpel?" a voice asks from the next room over, and Oil Slick's spark pulses with longing. That voice is . . it's tuned perfectly. He wants to sing with the bot that is making that vocalization. "You're back early this sol. Did Shockwave stop by again?" A gorgeous optic stares out at them, and then blinks with shock. It's the prettiest optic he's ever seen. Golden at the top, cascading down into purple at the bottom, in a gradation that no normal optic glass can create. "You . . you have a guest."

Scalpel climbs up the bot easily, making happy chirruping sounds, "Ja, ja. Zis is Dreadving, Oil Slick. Zis is Oil Slick, Dreadving."

The bot holds out a cautious servo, and Oil Slick moves forward, kissing the back of it like he'd had drilled into him since a sparkling when meeting especially pretty femmes. He has never been much for the femme frame - always drawn to Blitzwing for obvious reasons - but by _Primus_were his creators not going to let him get away with being rude. "Hello, Dreadwing."

The bot, and he isn't sure if it is a femme or a mech since the bot moves like a mech but has all sorts of femme attributes, gives him an odd smile, "Hello, Oil Slick. Scalpel told me about you."

"Do you like him?" Scalpel asks eagerly, skittering up onto Oil Slick's shoulder. "He is very pretty, ja? He vill be happy to pleasure your spark viz his glossa if you vant it. Or maybe you can tie him up? He likes ze chains, don't you, Dreadving?"

The mech ducks his head and nods shyly, "Yes, Scalpel. I like when you tie me up."

That is not really the reaction of a bot that loves chains, and he gets the impression that Dreadwing only _acts _like he likes it for Scalpel's sake. He doesn't bother to point this out; let Scalpel believe his berthbot loves it. "That's nice." He reaches over, touching the pretty bot softly, "He has a beautiful voice. Did you modify it?"

Scalpel beams at him, "Ja! Isn't he _pretty_sounding?"

He nods, touching the mech on the neck, right where the vocal processor is. "Incredibly so. Does he sing?" He really would love to do a duet. It has been a while since he could.

"Ja. I have heard him sing before, but he does not do it often."

Dreadwing smiles at him, "My modified vocal processor can become quite painful if I use it too long. I do not believe I could manage more than a single song at one time." He touches his neck cabling. "Scalpel prefers to have me silent most of the time."

The little mech strokes Dreadwing's rotor blades, which are draped seductively over a set of wings. "Ja. I like spending quiet time viz you, my bot."

Dreadwing blushes, and it is easiest the prettiest blush Oil Slick has _ever_seen. "I like spending time with you, Scalpel."

He wonders if the reason Scalpel likes his berthbot silent is because Dreadwing isn't very smart or is boring. He isn't sure if he wants to know the answer. Instead, he touches the mech's neck again, "I would love to be able to sing with you if I could. I need to get back into the practice of it. There hadn't been much reason to sing for me before I got here, and I miss it." The cold room of his apartment wasn't worth it, and he wasn't allowed to at the labs.

"If you want to sing with me, I will try my best for you," Dreadwing promises, and then blushes again. "I sometimes forget the words, though. My processor is not so good with those things."

Scalpel strokes his helm. "Shh. It is alright, meine Dreadving. Ve have fixed most of your processor glitching, ja? Ve make sure you transform every decacycle now. Ve vill not have zat problem ever again."

Oil Slick kind of wonders what Dreadwing turns into, since he can't tell anything specific from how the bot is shaped. If anything, he'd say the mech turns into a cube like a sparkling, but that's simply not possible. Even _with_heavy modification. "You don't have to sing with me. I don't mind." Even though a small part of him does. He should have his flock around him to sing with, and feel like everyone else is just jealous of how awesome they are.

But now he _does _realize how terrible seekers are at singing.

"I would like to." Dreadwing leans in close, "And then I would like to interface with you. It is not often that Scalpel brings other bots to see me." He rests his claws on Oil Slick's hips. "I hope to please you in whatever ways I can. I am very skilled in the berth. You will not be unsatisfied."

Oil Slick holds up his servos, "I have no wish to interface with you. I lost my sparkbonded and reincarnated. Other bots do not satisfy me."

Dreadwing gives him a disappointed look, but nods. "If that's wha-"

Scalpel reaches over, putting a claw in the mech's mouth, and giving Oil Slick a dim opticked look, "I told you zat I have special chemical zat will take ze discomfort avay. You will not have to vorry about zat."

He shakes his head, "It isn't discomfort, Scalpel. It is the fact that you _aren't_ my sparkbonded. The one my spark longs for and can not have. I have tried 'facing a bot, and it did not work out." He was just so _disappointed _in Prowl, and it wasn't even his old friend's fault.

Scalpel hums consideringly. "I could modify Dreadving's spark for you for the sol. He has a," the bot wiggles his tiny arms around, "in his sparkchamber, and it allows me to alter ze pulsation, vavelength, and resonance of his spark. It is not ze most comfortable zing for him at first, but he is used to it by now, aren't you my Dreadving?"

The mech nods, "Yes, Scalpel. I would not mind being altered for your use, Oil Slick."

He shakes his head, having thoroughly been turned away from 'facing any bot because of the first disaster. "I'm fine how I am." He still has yet to try self-servicing here, but that has more to do with the fact that he wants to check his room for cameras, and hasn't gotten around to it more than anything else. He really should, since his charge balance is getting quite bad.

Scalpel frowns at him, "I vant to see you riding my Dreadving's spark."

He raises an optic ridge, "Megatron wants to see me doing that to Starscream. I'm not going to indulge _him _with that. I also have no interest in 'facing Dreadwing."

"Feh. Fine." Scalpel skitters up onto Dreadwing and scowls down at him. "Zen get out of my quarters. I vill not let you sing viz him. You can just go be a stick in ze mud elsevhere." He strokes Dreadwing's armor, "I vill use you, meine Dreadving. do not vorry."

The larger bot pets Scalpel's back and murmurs something to him, and Oil Slick takes that as his cue to exit.

Stepping out of the room, he is accosted by General Strika. He hadn't even known the intimidating femme was on base. She is normally off doing things with Lugnut or with her team on other planets. "There you are, little bot." He's grabbed by the waist in one large servo and picked up, "You are a security risk. Ve vill be taking you to have your oath now."

He blinks, "That was fast. I wasn't expe-"

She puts a finger in his mouth, and he makes a face. "You vill not talk. Ve do not know if you are even safe to have here. Lord Megatron says he vill not be branding you for some reason, but you _must_take ze oath."

He flicks his glossa against her finger, and she removes it. "I was not objecting. I was simply not expecting him to summon me so quickly."

Strika makes a displeased noise and pushes her finger into his mouth to silence him. "Little mechs should not speak vhen they are told to be silent. You should be respectful. If you backtalk Lord Megatron during the ceremony, I vill make you regret it."

He sighs softly, letting her shift him to a more comfortable position. He knows better than to argue with a femme. His creators have proven that over and over.

When he's brought to Lord Megatron, Strika puts him on their leader's lap, and says, "Here he is, my Lord. He vas hiding in the labs."

Oil Slick makes sure he doesn't look around, not wanting to see if Blitzwing is there to see this or not. He knows his spark will pulse very noticeably if he sees the mech.

"I see." Megatron touches Oil Slick's chest, right where he would carry his new mark. "I made a promise to your creators that I would not brand you. That I would not mark you against your will."

That was news to him. As far as he knows, Megatron does not allow this of anyone. "Why was I so special?"

"Because Shockwave informed me that you were brilliant, and," he rubs Oil Slick's sparkplates, "also that you _love _chains. That you love them so much you occasionally tie yourself up in your berth and pleasure your spark that way."

He freezes. He _knew_ his creators had told Megatron this, but it just confirms this even more. What's worse is that Megatron announced it to _everyone_. He's not going to get a moment's peace because of this now. He pushes the servo away, "And I'm a sparkbonded bot. There's no way I'm going to-"

The servo pushes against his plates possessively, "You are not bonded right now, and you think that your bonded is not there. Your charge is off balance, as well. You should try 'facing a bot." The bot being Megatron, going unsaid.

He shakes his head, "No." He moves away, only to get tugged back. "N-no." He slips out of the grip, "You may have been able to before, but not now." He takes off to the rafters, disappearing from sight.

Strika curses, and stamps one large, flat ped, "You get back down this instant, you brat! You _vill _take the Decepticon mark now, or ve vill hunt you down and strip you for parts!"

"Calm yourself, Strika. You know that I do not frag bots without branding them. He has just proven that he has already taken my oath in his past life, and a branded oath is carried forever by the spark." A chuckle, "And I can wait for him to calm down. Perhaps give him a gift of cuffs."

He shivers in the rafters, both wanting that and not wanting it at all. He knows that if he accepts such a thing, he'll be shoved down and used instantly, but refusing it is an insult.

He... he just needs to figure out a way to get Blitzwing to love him is all.

The thought hurts his spark. He knows the triple-changer wouldn't really want him. Not when the bot is with _Shockwave_. He's seen the videos of Blitzwing kissing the other mech, he knows he doesn't have a chance, and he's _still _not desperate enough to climb into the berth and share the mech with the creeper.

He'll just avoid Blitzwing for now. The mech has been largely uninterested in him thus far. He only has to stay disinterested for Oil Slick to avoid his notice. Hopefully, after a stellar cycle or two, the interest in him would die down, and he could get back to work without being harassed by bots wanting to chain him down and frag his spark.

He can do this.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>

Took out a bit from near the beginning, if you want to see it, look in my livejournal


	6. Chapter 6

Transformers Belongs To Hasbro

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><p>He can't do this.<p>

Blitzwing is staring at him blatantly across from his lab counter. "You like chains, ja?"

He looks frantically around the lab, wondering where the frag Scalpel is. When he _can't find_his fragger of a boss, he nods reluctantly. "Y-yes." He can't take a step away, having to remain where he is, so he doesn't ruin what he's working on. "Did you need something?"

"Ja." He studies Oil Slick critically. "You are not my normal type. I do not go for ze treads," which was strange, because Shockwave was _covered _in treads, "But I do go for ze chains. You vill look lovely tied to my berz." Blitzwing scoops him up and Oil Slick's spark goes crazy with want and hope. "You will not object, will you?"

His optics flicker, entirely against his will, "I .. I w-"

Strika strides into the room, yanking him out of Blitzwing's arms, and it takes everything he has not to dig his claws into the triple-changer's armor to not get yanked away. "You, little bot, you are vhat I need for my team. You vill be coming, yes?"

He blinks in surprise, "I am?"

She nods firmly, "You are. Now, vill you be coming or not? It vill stop all the propositions you have been getting for the last few decacycles. You vill accept?"

"Yes," he answers quickly, if only to escape Blitzwing. He doesn't want to risk upsetting Shockwave. He knows the mech is possessive as frag, and as much as his spark longs for Blitzwing, he won't risk it. "I will."

"Then ve vill be going now." She lays a datapad on the table and smiles meanly at Blitzwing. "He is ours now, Blitzving. You vill not be having him. Not vhen he belongs to team Chaar."

His spark cries out in dismay, but he ignores it, just like he's gotten used to ignoring it. He takes the datapad, reading the mission parameters as Blitzwing glares at Strika. "He was not rejecting me, Strika. I am allowed to ask him if he wants to be in my berz."

She smiles even wider, all dente, "He is team Chaar's. That means you vill not touch him. Go back to your berth, you vill not have him now."

The triple-changer flips to Hothead and curses at her, and she wraps protective arms around Oil Slick, carrying him away. When they're in the hallway, Oil Slick arches an optic ridge, trying to regain his calm. "I would like to object to my role in this upcoming mission. We are required to go undercover, and you have me playing the part of your berthwarmer."

She smirks at him, petting his plates. "You vill not have to 'face me, little bot. Ve vill be keeping you safe. You are needed to keep the bots off our tracks. Do you have any chemical weapons vith you?"

He rolls his optics, "Of course I do. I just don't want to be thought of as a _pet_just because I'm not a traditional size for Decepticons."

She takes out a cloth, rubbing his plates, "You vill not have on the brand for this, either. Ve vant you to pretend not to be associated vith us at all. It vill make it easier."

The plan calls for him to sneak into several private buildings and gather documents. In his free time, he's to make chemical weapons for the rest of the team. And he's to do all of this while staying in a hotel that is noted for the way prostibots use it as a place to take clients. "I do not like this plan."

She taps him on the nose, "You are an important part of the plan. Ve vill need you, and you have already agreed."

He glares, "You asked me when I was trying to get away from a bot," _lies_, "and didn't show me the mission until after. This is trapping me."

She snorts, "_Decepticon_, little bot. You know how ve vork."

He's going to have to get used to that.

* * *

><p>Blinking his optics vapidly, Oil Slick does his best impression of a bot that has had their entire processor removed and replaced with a very damp sponge. "Oh? I wasn't aware I was supposed to stay out of this hall. I'm so sorry." He minces over to the guardmech and rests his claws on his chest. "My . . .client said it was okay."<p>

Primus, he hates this mission.

The mech raises an optic ridge, "Really?" The bot picks him up, "Clients are not the ones that make the rules here."

He _really _wants to jam his claws in the mech's optics, especially since the bot is groping and squeezing his aft. "They aren't?" He blinks up at the guardbot, optics flickering vacantly, "But I was told that anything the client wants is what they get?"

"Who do you work for, little mech? You must have someone to take care of you." The bot's claws slide into his seams, tweaking his wiring. "I could forgive you for coming in this private hall if you give me a ride for free."

He widens his optics and looks as scandalized as possible, "No! No! I'm not allowed to give free rides! Let me go!" he squirms and manages to free himself, running off with just a hint of ninjabot speed to avoid the guard's attempts to grab him again. He'd have to write this one off as a failure. He's not allowed to kill any bots on this mission unless in self-defense.

Strika is going to be pissed.

* * *

><p>He twitches, almost impreceptively, as Strika talks to one of the bots for the mission, his back being petted absently. He has long since tuned them both out, since it isn't anything important, and he's only there as lap candy. He knows that his creators would be fragging ecstatic if this got reported to them. He may not have found his sparkbonded, but - joy of joys - he's with a femme.<p>

Primus, he's bored.

A sharp pinch brings him back to attention, and he squirms his hips the way Strika showed him, and it draws the other bot's optics just like she said it would.

"Is your mech up for offers too?" the bot asks, watching Oil Slick wriggle enticingly as Strika fondles his aft.

"No."

The bot looks disappointed, "But he is so unique. I've never seen a bot with treads like that." _Pity about his face_, clearly there but not said. That is not something you point out to a femme. Especially one as intimidating as Strika.

She rubs Oil Slick's faceplates, "He is _very _unique. That is vhy he is not part of the offer. I vill not be sharing him."

He is thankful that his sparkbond means he's never going to be part of any deals like this. If he didn't have it, it is certain he'd be up for grabs, just to make this easier. Slag, if he didn't have the bond, it is very likely he'd be perfectly fine with it.

He _is _a ninjabot, after all.

The _idea _of sharing his spark with many bots is excellent. He wants to experience that with all of his spark in theory.

But in practice, it is not satisfying to share sparks with other bots. Not satisfying at all. He sighs, and curls against Strika, trying to look like his processor has gone missing, and he's being kept around for his hot spark.

He wants to go back to his lab. At least Scalpel is always willing to demand he do something. The most he's done on this fragging mission is sneak into a few houses and buildings to get documents.

It's just so boring.

* * *

><p>He's dropped in the middle of the lab by Strika, <em>finally <em>being allowed on his own two peds. "There, little bot. Back safe and sound. You vill be going to your creators' home soon, since they have demanded you go."

"Fine." Oil Slick hasn't been gone long enough to warrant a trip back home, but he's not stupid enough to argue with Strika.

His team leader.

He feels a bit giddy at that. His very own team. Even if most of his assignments were essentially pretending to be a whorebot and fetching documents when he was able to. No real action at all.

He is not surprised to find himself under attack the very moment Strika is out of sight. Especially since it isn't really an attack, and more a flying hug. "Vhere vere you? You vere gone _too long_! You vill not do zis to me again! I vill not let you!"

He shifts so the bot is in his arms, petting Scalpel softly, "I was off with my team on a mission, Scalpel. I'm a ninjabot, and that means I'm too valuable to just leave in a lab when I could be utilized on the field."

"I do not like it," Scalpel says stubbornly, stamping his dainty peds. "You vill stay viz me from now on and ve vill make lovely science togezer. Lovely, lovely science. Vill you stay?"

Oil Slick snorts, "It sounds like you're proposing to me, and we both know how inappropriate that would be, Scalpel. I'll work with you when I can, but I am an official member of Team Chaar now. I can't just avoid my responsibilities. Do you get that?"

The bot nuzzles his servo, "You should stop being viz team Chaar, und stay viz _me_."

He rubs the mech's head softly, "No. I can not. I am also being called away to my creators, as well. I will have to go soon."

His claws are nipped at, "Nein. You vill do no such zing. You vill stay viz me. Tell zem I claim you. Ve vill be painted at dawn."

He looks down at the bot, optic ridge raised, "You better be joking, Scalpel. You are not the bot I'm bonded to."

"Nein? You do not even remember his name, ja? I could be ze bot you are bonded to." Scalpel preens, standing as tall as he can. "You vill bond viz me, and if you ever find anozer bot zat makes your spark sing, ve vill zree-vay bond and be very happy."

He pats Scalpel's head. "No."

Scalpel nibbles on his claw, looking up at him with large adorable optics, "_Ja_. You vill bond viz me, und ve vill be very happy."

He shakes his head, "You would leave your Dreadwing all alone?"

The bot pauses, thinking about it. "Ve vill..." Scalpel trails off, frowning. "You vill bond viz me. So zat no von can steal you avay again."

"It will be alright, Scalpel. I will spend as much lab time with you as possible." The mech was so obviously lonely. "Would you like to come watch a film with me tonight? You can bring Dreadwing, and we can enjoy energon sweets. I know that the common room dispenser has whipped energon tonight as a special."

Scalpel perks up a little. "Vhipped energon? Viz rust sticks?"

He pulls a rust stick out of his subspace, "If there aren't any near the dispenser, you will still have some."

The mech snatches it from his servo, nibbling at the end adorably, "Ja. I vill go viz you." The bot pauses, "Ve vill vatch ze film in my rooms. I do not vant ozers to covet my Dreadving."

He nods easily, "We can do that." Scalpel's couch is more comfortable than Oil Slick's berth, anyway. He doesn't mind if he falls into recharge there.

* * *

><p>"We saw vid captures of you with General Strika!" Glitterfrost says gleefully over their energon cubes, and Oil Slick sips at his slowly.<p>

"Mothers, it was not what you think. Not at all." He places the cube on the table and vents. "She is my team leader now. I have been promoted to a position on team Chaar. I'm not sure if Megatron told you about that or not, but the position is meant to be a permanent one. When I am not working with Scalpel, I am with team Chaar, training for combat."

Wildstar frowns, "Hm. What about your education? I know you wanted to go to the Academy."

He nods, "But that's why I'm working with Scalpel. It is more like one on one tutoring. I'll have all the education I need working with him."

Glitterfrost pokes him, "But you wanted to know more about _chemistry_. Scalpel doesn't do that."

He smiles, "Yes he does. It isn't his main area, but he knows quite a bit, and is able to get a hold of datapads and things so I can free study."

His mamas give him an odd look, and Wildstar puts a servo over his, "Are you giving up on your dream to be a great scientist just to work with Scalpel? You wanted a lab of your own, and now..." She trails off meaningfully, and frowns at him.

He smiles, "I'll be getting my own lab in a decavorn or so. It isn't a big deal."

"Will you really? Or will Scalpel keep you in a subordinate position?" Wildstar rubs his servo gently, "You do realize that's how most Decepticons work? They don't like having their favorite bots taken away, or given a higher rank. He might try and keep you from getting your own lab."

The bot wasn't like that. He knew it. "He's a sciencebot, mothers. He won't impede my progress even if he wants to."

Mama Glitterfrost frowns at him, rubbing his arm, "You don't _know_that, sparkling. It's Scalpel. He's not known for his stability."

Oil Slick shrugs, "I think he's just lonely, mamas. He likes having me there, but we have talked about me getting my own lab. He wants me out of the way so I can work on my specialty, but wants me close enough to talk to. I'd just move down the hall from him, and he'd be happier."

His mamas both look doubtful, but Oil Slick knows that Scalpel will prefer having his lab private again, with Oil Slick coming over for the occasional joint experiment or shared cube of energon. Few sciencebots were truly happy having to share their space with an invader, even if they liked that other bot. If the bot were not minionbot material, they quickly shoved the bot out.

And Scalpel got over calling him his minionbot after only one argument where Oil Slick was correct and Scalpel was wrong.

Wildstar nods reluctantly, squeezing his servo, "I suppose." She smiles again, "But! Strika! You were on her lap and being petted! Does this mean you found out she's your sparkbonded?"

He sighs, "I told you she's my team leader. Nothing to do with my bond at all."

Glitterfrost gives him a disappointed look, "But she _could_be your sparkbonded, couldn't she? Or possibly Lugnut. You said your bonded is purple to us once."

"If either of them was my sparkbonded, they would not have gone and gotten into a serious relationship. It's," he rubs his chest absently, "unpleasant to interface with bots that have the wrong spark. Not awful, but not good, either. And when you have memories of what interfacing with your spark's perfect match is like, even if they managed to get interfacing to a tolerable level, it's not something you _want_to do."

Mama Wildstar frowns at him, "Have you found your sparkbonded yet? We were kind of hoping that since you went to the Decepticons, you'd be able to get him there. Is he?"

His face falls, and he stares at the table, not wanting to talk about how he thinks he's not actually a sparkbonded bot, but one that is a spark_broken _bot. He hates how his spark insists that he should be with Blitzwing when it is so very clear that Blitzwing is with Shockwave and couldn't have been bonded at all.

He's just... a stupid lovesick seeker.

"Sparkling?" Glitterfrost asks, touching his shoulder gently. "Did you find him? Is he . . offline?"

If he lies to them now, they're going to be so very angry with him later, but if he tells them that his spark cries out for Blitzwing, they will ruin everything and _tell _the mech that Oil Slick is panting after him. And then he'll end up offlined by Shockwave. Or as their berthtoy.

"I haven't found him yet, Mamas. But," he has to give them something, even if it disappoints them, "I know he's a mech. I remember that much."

He's pulled from his chair to his mamas' laps, and held closely, "We don't _care_that you love a mech, sparkling. We just want you happy." His back is rubbed softly, and Mama Wildstar continues, "Yes, we'd like it if you had been with a femme, but you were sparkbonded." She kisses the top of his head, holding him closer, "That's better than anything else."

Now he feels even _worse_. He is certain he wasn't bonded, even with that one memory of Blitzwing telling him that they were blessed by the Allspark. He can't be sure if his spark is just stupid and imagining everything. He hasn't gotten anywhere in his meditation on finding his name, and he doesn't know what to _do_about this. He was fine with just pushing it away and dealing with being in the lab or working on the mission, but now his creators want him to think about it.

"I think I'll go meditate," he says softly, barely loud enough for them to hear. "Perhaps more will come to me if I try to focus on it." His creators let him go with kisses to his forehead and hugs that leave dents on his frame, and Oil Slick makes his way to his old ninjabot academy, settling himself into the crystal garden without informing them of his arrival.

They're ninjabots. If they weren't aware of his arrival immediately, they need remedial training.

He can feel several bots popping in to look at him, but he ignores them. If they really want to talk to him, they'll just talk. The first bots that actually interrupt him are actually a class of sparklings that are lead by Streetwise of all bots. The carbot was never much of a ninja in Oil Slick's opinion, but it is better than no one, really.

He onlines a single optic to look at the sparklings, then offlines it to focus on meditation. He doesn't even move when one crawls into his lap and asks, "Why are you meditating here, and not the organic garden?"

He puts his arms down, wrapping them around the tiny minibot, petting the little bot's frame like he remembers his teachers doing, "I have a black thumb. The organic plants will die around me if I stay near them too long."

"Oh." The minibot stares at him with wide optics. "That's sad. Did you know that I went to the temple?"

Oil Slick rubs the bot's back, "Did you really? Did you like it there?"

Nodding, the minibot sparkling continues, "We saw the temple fortune teller and he said," the minibot frowns, obviously trying to remember, "he said that I was going to bond to a bot with a black thumb. Will you bond with me?" The sparkling looks up at him with hopeful optics.

"You're not old enough for a bond, little bot."

The minibot pouts at him, blue optics wide, "But you have a black thumb."

He smiles, tapping the little mech on the nose softly, "I am already bonded, though. I am trying to find him."

The sparkling beams, "It could be me!"

He chuckles, shaking his head, "You are green and red, while my bonded is purple and tan." That's actually more information than he's ever given any other bot, but it doesn't hurt to let a sparkling know about Blitzwing's colors. "We are not bonded."

The sparkling pouts, leaning against him, "I want to be, though. Do you think my bonded will love me?"

"You don't bond with a bot unless you love them." Or, if you're of a very high rank in your culture, if the bond is an advantageous one, in which case you _learn_to love your bondmate over time. "When you find them, you'll know." He tweaks the minibot's horns. "Don't discount any bots just because they don't have a black thumb. The fortune teller has been wrong before, little one."

The minibot squirms out of his arms and stamps his ped, "No! I will bond with a bot with a black thumb and you can't stop me!"

He laughs softly, "Just don't think it is a bot like me, little bot." He holds out his servo, wiggling his claws, "They may mean a _literally _black thumbed bot. Do you see how mine are yellow?"

The minibot freezes, and takes his servo, inspecting it closely, "So my bonded could have black painted thumbs?"

He nods, "Or just a single black thumb. Or be like me. Any number of things. Just let your life go as it is, little mech. You will fall in love with a bot you adore and get bonded. Don't pay attention to what the fortune teller said until you're older. Keep it in mind, but don't think of it as the only reason you should bond with a bot. Maybe later on, you will find the bot they were talking about."

"No." The sparkling stamps away, and stops to look over his shoulder and stick out his glossa before running over to hide behind Streetwise.

Sparklings were such silly things.

Another bot comes over to touch his chest. "You're a Decepticon." The racecar mech nods his head and touches the mark again. "Do you eat sparks? Mama said Decepticons eat sparks. And Autobots are berthwarmers. Do you eat Autobots?"

He chuckles softly, "No. I don't do either of those things." A spark is too useful to be eaten. He can think of all sorts of things to do with a live spark in his experiments. He's heard that he could do more with a sparkling spark, but the thought of experimenting on sparklings sickens him. At least an adult bot made their choice on what side to be on, while a sparkling still has time to learn what to do.

The sparkling frowns at him, "What _do_you do, then?"

He smiles, "I work in a lab. I make things."

"Do you make candy?" a tiny femme asks him, crawling onto his lap to demand his attention. "My papas make candy for my mama a lot. My mama is carrying another sparkling." She frowns, "I don't want a brother. I told them to give him back to Primus and they said no."

Rubbing her helmet vents, Oil Slick tries to reason with her, "If you have a brother, you'll have a bot to play with at home." He's mostly surprised that a femme with two mechs chose to carry the sparkling herself.

She makes a face, "Mechs don't like playing with dolls and things, though!"

He raises an optic ridge, "They don't? I am surprised you think that." He looks at the rest of the sparklings in the class, "Who of you will play with dolls if she told you to?"

He watches as all of the sparklings, and Streetwise, raise their servos reluctantly.

"See? All of them will. A little brother will be no different."

She glares at him, "I still want a little sister."

"Did your creators tell you if it was a mech or a femme?"

She stares at the ground. "They said he was a mech spark and he was going to be my brother, but I don't want him. I don't want a brother. I want a sister."

"You should be happy you have any siblings coming," Oil Slick counsels her. "Most sparklings don't get to have a sibling to play with."

She crosses her arms, "I don't _want_a mech to play with. I have all sorts of mech to play with already."

Ah. That's the problem. "Do you want more femmes to talk to?"

She gives him a dirty look, then nods reluctantly, "Yes. There's only me and mama."

He raises an optic ridge at Streetwise, and the bot shrugs at him, unsure what to do. "Are there any other femmes in the school?" he asks, not really sure if there are. If there are, they could spend time with her, and that would get rid of her feeling of unease. Femmes like spending time with other femmes, just like mechs like spending time with mechs.

"Not this stellar cycle, though we are expecting to have another femme enrolled in the next stellar cycle, assuming her creators are still happy with our offer to educate her in our ways." Streetwise picks up a little mech sparkling and gives the bot a squeezing hug that has the minibot squirming and complaining loudly. It was important for the sparklings to get used to the tactile contact.

Oil Slick offers a claw to the femme, and she grabs on it. "Perhaps you could come and speak with my creators some sol. They are both femmes."

She climbs into his lap in that demandingly femme way, "I'd like that. Are they ninjabots?"

He shakes his head, "No, but if you asked them, I'm sure they'd let you use the obstacle course I used when I was training here." He'd offer it to all of the sparklings, but he has no wish for his creators to murder him. If they want to, they can offer on their own. He gets the impression they miss having sparklings around, and doing this would give them all the benefits, and take away the frustrating parts of raising.

"Thank you." She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses his cheek. "I hope a nice femme bonds with you."

He just pats her back until she's ready to get off his lap and chase the other sparklings around the crystal garden. It's good to let them burn off some of their energy between classes. Oil Slick falls back into his meditation, trying to seek out the answers of who his spark had been.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

><p>A little bit later, there's another bot falling into his lap, this one much heavier than any sparkling, and he onlines a single optic to see Prowl. He sighs softly, "I'm never going to get anything done, am I?"<p>

The black and gold cyclebot gives him a distressed look, "Oil Slick! You have to help me!" He is suddenly reminded of being in classes. "I can't get Yoketron to notice me!" Definitely reminded of classes. "Help me!"

He sighs at the bot, "I don't know what he likes, Prowl."

"He keeps saying cryptic things to me. Claiming he wants me. He even invited me to his berth once, and then didn't show up. I don't know what to do." Prowl loops his arms around Oil Slick's shoulders, "So we're going to make him jealous. I'm going to frag you right here in the garden, and he'll finally stop hiding from me."

He makes a face, pushing Prowl away, "No. I turned down fragging Megatron, I'm not 'facing you again." And it was actually hard to refuse Megatron, especially since he's certain the mech knows how to handle chains. He can't 'face Megatron, though, or Starscream, he'd mess up and show he used to be a seeker, and show he was in Starscream's flock, and he'd have to go through a refor-

Prowl pushes him down on his back, interrupting his thoughts, "I'm _better _than Megatron. You're my best friend, you fragger. You'll do this with me."

He glares, "No, I will not."

"Yes," Prowl interrupts again. "You will." He covers Oil Slick's mouth with his own, and if there's one thing Oil Slick has to admit, it's that Prowl has grown quite skilled with kisses, and it's quite nice to do just this.

Of course, with Prowl, it's never _just _kisses. He feels servos sliding up his plating, rubbing firmly at his sparkplates as if trying to coax them into opening for him. "Nngh," he manages, pushing at the bot's chest to try and get him off, even if he's a bit reluctant to stop the kissing, which feels rather good at this point.

The bot seems to take the pushing as encouragement, and ramps up the kiss, making his spark flutter. He still isn't close to opening, since it will take far more than just this to do that. Prowl doesn't even have a length of chain to tie him up. The other cyclebot rubs their plates together, unlocking loudly, when there's suddenly a mech yanking Prowl off. Yoketron glares down at Prowl, "I think _someone _needs remedial training. What is the very first thing we learn in 'facing lessons, Prowl?"

Even Oil Slick knows that one, even if he only took the most basic of lessons. "No means no, sensei." He sits up, and pulls out a cloth to clean himself up.

"I apologize, Yoketron," Prowl says, deliberately dropping their sensei's title, an act of familiarity that would normally result in a swift slap to the aft that would leave your plates stinging for megacycles. Yoketron only curls his servo around one of Prowl's fairings and tugs the mech closer.

"I am not the one you should be apologizing too." But it's clear that Yoketron is upset, and _jealous_, an emotion that ninjabots aren't supposed to feel to any large extent. Oil Slick suddenly realizes why Yoketron has been avoiding taking Prowl to his berth.

He's worried he will become _too _attached.

He wonders if Yoketron will try bonding with Prowl, and doesn't want to out of fear of rejection. Prowl is a ninjabot to the spark, and isn't the type to agree to a bonding. Especially not when he's so very young. The other cyclebot is barely older than him. Just barely older by a vorn.

Prowl cuddles against Yoketron, optics dim, "I'm sorry for forcing you, Oil Slick." It is so very clear from his tone that he would have gone entirely spark to spark if it meant he got Yoketron's attention. Especially if he managed to work Oil Slick hot enough to force him to open up.

Well, he knew that never would have happened. Prowl is pretty, but he isn't near forceful enough to compare to Blitzwing. He waves a servo, "Whatever. You go do whatever it is you're doing with him, Master Yoketron."

"I hope you will be giving me those remedial lessons," Prowl purrs, dimming his optics at Yoketron, who narrows his own.

"I think you would benefit more from being re-acquainted with the punishment paddle. Perhaps if your aft is dented, you will remember not to try and force your fellow ninjabots."

Prowl dims his optics even further, until they're just a hint of blue glowing light, "So we'll be having _that _sort of lesson? Had I known you enjoyed that, I would have let you do it long ago, Yoketron."

Prowl's fairing is pinched, "No." Yoketron reluctantly stops pulling Prowl closer, but keeps hold of the fairing. "You'll still be taught a lesson, little bot. You aren't too old for that."

Oil Slick watches as Yoketron yanks Prowl away, wondering if the sensei is actually going to 'face Prowl or not. He's sure he'll be told eventually.

One of the sparklings from the class comes up, clearly trying to be sneaky, and he allows the little bot to tackle him. "Are you going to be one of our senseis?"

He shifts the little bot to his lap, tickling him softly, "No. I'm just here to visit right now."

The little mech kicks his feet cutely, "I want you to be my sensei, though!"

"Sorry, little mech." He tickles one of the peds, making the bot giggle helplessly. "I have to work for Lord Megatron. He does not want me to be a sparkling sensei. Not here on Haydon IV." He picks the mech up and holds him upside down from the peds, and the bot giggles more, staring at him upside down.

"Is Megatron scary?"

Oil Slick thinks of Megatron, from a memory as a seeker. The mech had been streaked with energon from his fallen foes, and his expression had been so very dangerous that he'd been afraid to come to the mech's berth that night. When he'd arrived, he'd been taken very rough, his wings crumpled as the mech had his way. Mostly, he remembers being satisfied by it all. "He can be, but he is a good leader."

The sparkling grabs his legs, turning just a bit to get held by the waist, rightside up, "Do you think _I _could be a Decepticon?"

He studies the bot, and he can see the bot isn't going to be a tiny frame when he grows up, easily be larger than Oil Slick in just a few vorns and only get bigger. "Possibly. If that's what you want. Lord Megatron would not refuse more ninjabots in his service."

The little bot cuddles against him, "Does he only take bonded ninjabots?"

He shakes his head, "No. He'll allow any that want to join." He taps the sparkling on the faceplate softly, "You even have red optics. He'd love that."

Proving he's still a sparkling, the mech lashes out and bites Oil Slick's claw, the instinctive reaction of most sparklings when fingers are near their mouths. Oil Slick winces a bit-the mech still has his sparkling denta, which are painfully sharp things.

"I recommend you learn not to bite if you want to be a Decepticon," he advises, carefully freeing his claw from the sparkling's mouth. "Lord Megatron will not like it if you try and bite him."

The little bot blinks at him, "... sorry."

He just pets the bot on the helmet, "Just try not to." He gently pushes the bot off his lap, "How about you go play? I'm sure you'll have fun running around with everyone. I can see you're all playing hide and go seek." A very good training tool for a ninjabot. It teaches stealth, the ability to search for hidden things, and is neatly disguised in a game. "Don't you want to join them?"

The sparkling makes a face, "I'm always so bad at it, though. Everyone finds me first."

He smiles, "We had a minibot like that in my classes. Tap-Out got better as he practiced."

"Can I hide with you?" the sparkling asks, tugging on his leg armor. "I want you to show me the best hiding spot. Where they won't ever find me, so I can win."

That was not how the game worked at all. "I can't show you such a place because it does not exist, sparkling. You need to hide in different places each time, or you will eventually be found. You must learn to think quickly and be flexible in where you choose to hide yourself."

The bot pouts at him, "But I'm _horrible _at this."

He pushes the sparkling away, "Then ask sensei Yoketron to help you. He's the one that teaches stealth."

The little bot makes a hurt sound, "I can't ever _find_ him, though. And Prowl is always stalking up and down the hallway grumbling about never seeing him, either. How can _I _get to him if he can't?"

He tugs the little bot back into his lap, soothing him softly, "Sensei Yoketron is hiding from Prowl, but Prowl isn't the one that is teaching you. Yoketron is. You just need to sit in the classroom for awhile and be patient. He will show up. If you need more help, then you can ask another sensei. You need patience and practice."

The sparkling pouts. "I don't want patience and practice. I want to make things go _boom_!" he waves his servos around wildly, shouting the word with great enthusiasm. "Do you make things go boom?"

He does, but it's not always intentional. "Sometimes. Are you saying you want to go into science, or munitions?"

Wrinkling his nose with confusion, the sparkling asks, "What's munitions?"

He laughs, throwing the bot in the air and catching him, "That's where you make things that go," He throws the bot in the air again, yelling out, "boom!" He catches the mech dropping him back in his lap, "Working with explosives."

The sparkling gives him a thoughtful look, "Could I do that as a Decepticon?"

He smirks, "You can. Very easily."

"I wanna be a Decepticon, then." The sparkling preens and puffs out his chest proudly, and Oil Slick pats his head.

"Then I look forward to seeing you join our ranks when you are grown up. Make sure you study all your subjects well. Megatron likes sparklings to be well-rounded in their education." He has no idea if that's true, but it sounds nice, and will make the mech work hard.

The sparkling nods enthusiastically, "Do you think he'll let me blow things up?"

He nods, "But since you're a _ninjabot_, he will expect you to blow things up stealthily." He pushes the little bot towards the garden, "So you should go practice that. You may even be the ninjabot he calls on most to do things if you get good enough."

The little bot gasps, nodding enthusiastically. "I can do that!"

He's left in peace for less than a klik before another familiar presence drops down beside him. "Not cool, swayin' the little bots to your side like that, mech," Jazz says, his voice as calm and relaxed as always.

"You're one to talk," Oil Slick complains. "I know you've been invited to join the Elite Guard. Your kind won't take bots with red optics without heavy prejudice."

"And yours won't let blue-opticked bots anywhere but the berth."

He waves a servo dismissively, "There _is_ a brand they can take, and they'll get lovely red optics." He remembers that brand, and how painful it was. He'd already _had _red optics, but Megatron had insisted. All seekers in the army got the brand, and had the pain soothed away by being 'faced and licked when it was over.

Jazz puts a arm over his shoulder, dragging him close, "Not one you've taken, though." He's tapped right on the optic, "Still as green as ever."

He nods, "I'm never taking the brand now, since it will get rid of them. I like my optics how they are."

"So you were a Decepticon in your past life?" Jazz presses a servo over Oil Slick's sparkplates. "Makes sense that you'd go to them again, even if you're not exactly Decepticon-framed. And you're not even getting any good frags out of it, are you?" Jazz sighs, and tugs him close, into a loose-limbed hug. "Poor thing. I hope you find your sparkbonded soon, so you can balance your charge properly."

He chuckles, just a tad bitterly, "Don't worry about it." He sighs softly, offlining his optics, "I need to work on my meditation. I was hoping here would work, but I keep getting interrupted."

He's tugged lazily into Jazz's lap, the huge chest hood hanging over him, "This isn't the only place to meditate, you know. All sorts o-" Jazz pauses, "You have a black thumb. I keep forgetting that." The carbot hums softly, rubbing his tank, "There's a crystal garden you could try? I know that it isn't the best, but sparklings won't hop into your lap there."

He shakes his head, "I don't mind the sparklings. I've just never been much good at meditating. You already know this."

"You just gotta relax, mech," Jazz hums at him. "It's easy. I already told ya. You just gotta chill, and be one with the world. One with yourself, and you'll slip into meditation like a breeze."

"That's easy for you to say," Oil Slick mutters, "the only bots more calm than you are in permanent medical stasis."

His hip gets pinched lightly, "I get significantly less calm in the berth."

He pushes the servo away, "And you know I have no interest. I'm not helping you with your score on the boards. I'm thoroughly uninterested in any bot that _isn't _my bonded. I keep getting propositioned by all sorts of bots." He rolls his optics, "Scalpel even wanted to paint my servo."

Jazz raises an optic ridge, and that is the most reaction he's _ever _gotten out of the laidback mech, "Really? He knows that's not how it works, doesn't he?"

He nods, "It is like Decepticons don't get that a sparkbonded bot missing their love isn't any fun to 'face."

Half of him is tempted to interface a few of them and suffer a few terrible frags just to get it known base-wide that he's not a good frag. Of course, there is the little fact that Megatron announced to all the mechs and femmes that he enjoys bondage. There's a good chance that it _will _heat his spark enough to be a moderately good frag, and he would have to 'face Megatron first, since Oil Slick doesn't even want to think of the consequences for interfacing a bot and then having Megatron find out.

He'll just have to put that idea off for now If it doesn't stop being a distraction in a vorn, he'll consider it more seriously. Until then, it is just an unfeasible plan.

He'll just reveal himself if he does do anything.

Jazz pets him softly on his tank, "Any reason you're meditating here?"

He nods, optics offline, "Trying to find out my past life's name. It should help me out on my sparkbonding."

"Good luck, mech." Jazz kisses his helm gently. "When you find out, let me know?"

"If I remember, I will." He won't, if the name identifies too much about him. He's certainly not sharing his name if he turns out he's right, and Starscream was his wingleader. At this point, he's hoping it all the result of some terrible glitch in his system and he's remembering it all wrong.

He's petted softly, "Want me to stay with you and help?"

He shrugs, "If you want? I don't really care either way. I never did any better meditating in groups than I did by myself. I can pick out when someone is coming to look at me even when my optics and audios are offline." He both loves and hates how sensitive he is to vibration sometimes.

Jazz moves him a little bit, rubbing his tank, "I'm cool with staying. If you don't want _me_, I'm sure one of the actual senseis hanging around would love to help you. Sensei Powerhug misses your talks with him about history."

"Sensei Powerhug enjoys having a bot who doesn't talk to him about how beautiful the organic garden is every breem. It is very inconsiderate." Oil Slick offlines his optics and settles down. "Now leave. I wish to meditate without you if you insist on touching me the entire time."

Jazz backs off, "Fine. I dig it. I won't touch you during your meditation."

He slips back onto the floor, legs folding up under him so he's sitting properly. "Good." He offlines his optics, and takes a deep in-vent.

He is not the least bit surprised to feel another body hitting him almost directly after Jazz takes off. He looks down at the sparkling in his lap, and the little minibot giggles at him, "Hi!"

He sighs softly, petting the bot on the head, "Yes, hello. Did you need something?"

The bot frowns, and snuggles into his arms, "You know how to meditate. You should help me learn." The sparkling pouts at him, "I'm _bad _at it."

"I'm not good at it either, little mech." Oil Slick adjusts the bot until he's settled more snugly against him. "But we can try together, if you like. Some bots meditate better if they have another frame with them." He offlines his optics and relaxes, slowing his venting, listening to the way the little sparkling tries to mimic him. "Pick your favorite image from the meditation pads and focus on it." Oil Slick tends to focus on a small picture of a melting crystal.

He can feel the sparkling try not to squirm next to him, "I don't like any of the pictures."

He chuckles softly, "Just choose one that is least distasteful to you, then. If we can't get you to meditate, we'll both go visit Sensei Star Atlas. I'll make sure Sensei Streetwise lets you." He wonders if he'll get used to _Streetwise_ as a sensei, but it isn't like he couldn't tutor a bot having trouble. Even though the carbot wasn't the best at doing it himself, he had memorized all sorts of ways that _could _work, and had an uncanny ability to choose out what to use for the bot asking.

"I don't wanna pick one. I wanna use a picture of you." The minibot clings to his servo possessively. "You'll be mine for meditation. I'll think of your frame and then we'll both meditate and it will be awesome." The sparkling nods, and he can feel it against his armor. "So awesome."

Oil Slick smiles to himself. "Of course it will."

He slowly explains how to drop down into meditation, talking softly and calmly to the minibot, and working the minibot into the state of calm needed. When he can tell that the sparkling _is _there, he puts himself in it as well.

He starts to work his way through his past life's memories, and he's getting closer and closer until he's being gently shaken on the shoulder. Onlining his optics, he keeps from growling angrily when he sees Streetwise in front of him. "I need to take Flicker now, Oil Slick. Thank you for teaching him."

He nods, "It isn't a problem. I'm glad he's not having trouble with meditation because of this."

Flicker blinks drowsily, coming up from his meditative state slowly. "Uh . . Sensei Streetwise. Why're you here? I was meditating."

Streetwise pats the sparkling's back gently, holding him in his arms, "Yes, you were, and you were doing a very good job of it, but it's time for your stasis nap, and then a cube of energon when you online later."

"No," the minibot whines, kicking his peds weakly. "I want to stay with Oil Slick!"

Streetwise shakes his head, "Oil Slick is a guest, and you shouldn't be disturbing him."

Flicker whimpers sadly, "I wasn't disturbing him. I was meditating with him." The bots squirms irritably. "I don't want to take a nap, I want to stay _here_."

Streetwise sighs, "We can not ask that of hi-"

Oil Slick holds out his servos, "If you leave me a cube of sparkling energon, I can make sure he takes a nap." He looks at the hopeful optics of all the other sparklings, "And the same with all the others, if that's what you want." He isn't looking forward to that, but he knows for a fact that the senseis will be watching him closely for any misconduct. It isn't even that he's a Decepticon, that's just what happens when a nonsensei ninjabot offers this sort of thing.

"Very well. It won't do them any harm to take their nap out here in the garden instead of in the classroom. I'll go fetch their recharge mats and the energon. You get them ready for their nap." Streetwise's mouth twists into a secretive little smile, "I don't envy you that task."

The sparklings crowd in around him, and it's true that none of them look even the slightest bit sleepy.

He pats the ground, "Okay, everyone, sit down."

The femme stamps her ped, "Why should I?"

He smirks, "You don't _have_ to, but if you refuse, it will take away future possibilities of recharging in the crystal garden. And likely any possibility of recharging in the _organic _garden, as well."

The sparklings that were looking defiant all drop on the ground, still looking wide awake but no longer like they will refuse just to test his boundaries. Flicker leans against him, "Will you tell us a story?"

"I suppose I could, if you promise to be very good and lay down on your recharge mats when Streetwise brings them out."

They nod eagerly, even the little femme. They've likely heard all the other sensei's stories a thousand times, and are wanting new material before their stasis naps.

Streetwise comes out with a stack of recharge mats, and a wide smile. "You should _sing _them a story, Oil Slick, like you used to do when you thought we weren't listening."

Primus, that's embarrassing. It was before he got really good at figuring out where bots are.

He shakes his head, "I'm not goi-"

Flicker and the femme clutch his arms, "Please?" they chime together, optics big and pleading. He can see that all the rest look on the edge of doing it as well.

He sighs softly, moving them off of him, and standing up to help set up the recharge mats. "If you really want me to, I can. You all have to recharge afterwards, though."

All the sparklings agree quickly, and Streetwise gets them all settled, "What will you be singing, Oil Slick?"

"A song." He lets his processor choose one at random, and begins singing. It's a seeker song. Some of their oral history, and it sounds much better in his voice than it does in a seeker's, though they would hotly debate that with him. He chooses to leave large parts of it in the native, ancient tongue of Vos, because too much knowledge of a song meant only for seeker audios would bring nothing but trouble his way.

This way he can claim he found it partially translated.

When he's done, all the sparklings are blinking at him, attention focused on him. The sparkling that wanted to be a Decepticon has his servo raised, and when pointed to, asks, "Can you sing another?"

He sighs, "Maybe later. It is time for little sparklings to take their stasis nap. I can sing to you while you refuel afterwards."

The little bots snuggle into the recharging mats, and the minibot that had wanted to bond with him mumbles softly, "We should have a story we _have _heard to recharge to. We don't want to miss anything Sensei Oil Slick says."

He wonders when he suddenly became a sensei.

Streetwise sits down and begins to tell them a familiar story about a bot who could not find his armor and had to run around the city in his protoform. The sparklings giggle occasionally, but quickly fall into recharge, their young systems needing the extra time to work on building them larger frames.

"Where'd you learn that song?"

Oil Slick leans on one of the larger crystals, looking at the recharging bots. He gives Streetwise a flat look, waving his servo around meaningfully at the large amounts of ninjabots hiding around them. "I picked it up."

Streetwise frowns at him, "You learned it from the Decepticons?"

Well, his creators when he was a seeker were Decepticons - and he just now realized why he had been putting that thought out of his processor since he got branded in the previous life, he did _not _want that mental image of his other creators being fragged by Megatron - so technically that is true. "Yes."

"Fascinating. I was unaware that there were many seekers on New Kaon at the moment."

There are two flocks of them. Minor flocks, and they technically fall under Starscream's control, but they are not directly led by him. He plays no part in their sol-to-sol politics, other than as final arbiter for arguments between the flocks, as wingleader of them all. "There are quite a few."

Streetwise moves next to him, tugging him down to the ground. "Let's meditate while we wait for them to to online."

He sighs softly, "You know how heavily I get into meditation. I'm not going to be much help if you need me."

The carbot smiles, patting his back, "That's fine, _Sensei_. You don't have to help. You're just going to have to deal with excited sparklings wanting you to sing to them again."

He rubs his optics, "Why am I suddenly a sensei now?"

"Because they like you." Streetwise pats his back again, hard enough to make Oil Slick wobble. "You'll get used to it. A few of them will develop crushes on you, of course. They always do, when they start getting older and realizing what their sparks are for."

"Fantastic. That's just what I want." Oil Slick drops into the best meditation he can, if only to avoid Streetwise's 'helpful' commentary.

It isn't long before he's pulled out, only a megacycle later, by several sparklings tackling him. "Sensei Oil Slick!"

He wonders if he'll get used to this, since it is very likely he'll be visiting often. "Yes?"

The femme tugs on his servo, and Oil Slick realizes he really should figure out their names, "You said you'd sing to us. Sing about a pretty femme."

He raises an optic ridge, "There are a very great deal of songs with a pretty femme. Anything specific in it? Or just that the femme must be pretty?"

"She must be pretty and she has to have lots of mechs to play with."

He knows quite a few songs that fit that bill, but none of them are appropriate for sparklings. Seeker songs are quite _filthy _when it comes to interfacing. "How about a song about two femmes competing for the same mech?"

She wrinkles her nose, "That doesn't happen."

He smiles at her, "It is rare, but it does happen." He stands up, "I'm going to sing you a song about a minibot."

The femme sparkling crosses her arms, "Why would a _minibot _have femmes arguing over him?"

He taps her dainty little nose, "That's what I'm going to explain." He looks around at the sparklings. "Does everyone have their energon?" All of them nod, some even holding up their cubes to show it off. "Very well, let's get started."

He walks around them all, singing the story about Volks the minibot, and how the mech managed to get a very large amount of femmes fighting over him. He keeps the more ... fanciful elements out of it, knowing that isn't really meant for sparklings, even ones that are training to be ninjabots.

The femmes involved had been rather embarrassed by it all afterwards, when they realized the lengths they had gone to for a single mech. The pair of femmes that had taken Volks as their lover had been extremely smug, even if his wandering optics and servos had caused them to have to 'punish' him more than once in the future, for trying to get with other femmes. Chain and Piston had more than enough work cut out for them with their little minibot lover.

When he finishes, the sparklings are blinking at him with wide optics. Knowing that his Sensei Powerhug will _strangle_ him if he doesn't do this, he starts to quiz them on what he just sang about. He goes through it all, and is actually quite impressed on how well they took it all to spark, absorbing it easily. He smiles at them, "Very good. Anyone have any questions for me about it? Keep in mind that I wasn't actually there, so I can't tell you anything _too _specific."

The femme raises a servo, "Do you think any of _these _mechs could do that?"

He shakes his head. "No. Ninjabots are not the kind of bots to deny a femme when she demands something. Volks is very good at figuring out exactly how bad someone wants something, and dancing away with that just out of reach."

The femme raises her servo again, "Do you think it's fair for a mech to make femmes compete for him? I think it was mean of him."

Femmes make mechs compete for them all the time, and the femmes chose to fight over Volks. "Yes. The femmes who chose to compete must have wanted to do so, or they would have simply found some other mech to please them. No one was forced to do anything."

She frowns, but doesn't ask again. He hopes she takes this lesson to spark, and that she realizes that it really is your own choice of what to do. Also, that even mechs can have femmes competing for them.

A cyclebot sparkling raises his servo, "Was Volks a crystal mech?"

He raises an optic ridge, "I think _someone _didn't pay attention to the song. I said in the beginning that Volks is just a plain looking minibot. He claims to be gold, but really is more of a dull orange color. He has... is it headfins, horns, or audio nubs on his helmet?"

One of the sparklings raises a servo, and he points to him, "Horns. Flat on the end horns."

He smiles, "Very good."

Flicker crawls onto his lap, giving the other bots a superior look. "Pointy horns are better." Oil Slick notices that Flicker has pointy horns. "Sensei Oil Slick, do you like pointy horns better?"

Oh dear. It seems like the sparkling crushes have already started. "I like flight models."

Scowling, Flicker tugs on his arm, "No. Ground models are better. And when I grow up you're going to bond with me."

He sighs softly, "I told you that the fortune teller isn't always the way you think it i-"

The sparkling glares up at him, wrapping tiny arms around his slim waist, "_No_."

He gives Streetwise a hopeless look, and the fragger just shrugs and smirks at him. The mech isn't going to be any help with this at all. He sighs softly, "I need to return to meditating, everyone. You need to go back to class."

"I'm staying with my bonded," Flicker announces loudly, cuddling against Oil Slick's chest with a happy sigh and a contented engine rumble. "It's okay to be jealous of us." He looks up with wide optics, "I can find some wings to wear for you."

Oil Slick hides his face with his servo. "That was not what I meant, sparkling."

"_Flick-er_," the little bot insists, stressing each syllable.

"_Spark-ling_," he says back, gently pushing the minibot away. "If you _are_ my sparkbonded, then I will not be with you if you refuse to go learn. What kind of bot would I be if I wanted my bonded uneducated? I'm a _scientist_. I don't want to be unable to talk to my bonded about things." Sometimes it is better just to humor sparklings, rather than insist they are wrong. His spark longs for Blitzwing, but it could very well be with another bot that died and he had focused on one _looking _like Blitzwing.

He has _never _heard of that happening, but Oil Slick is a very unique bot. If it were to happen to anyone, it would happen to him. That was simply how his life and his luck seem to work this go around.

"But I don't want to leave you. We're blessed by Primus," the sparkling insists, pressing a servo to his chest. "If I leave you, you might run away and then I'll never see you again."

He vents, "No. If we were meant to bond, then we will find each other again." Flicker looks dubious, and a quick glance around shows that the rest of the sparklings don't think that, either. He rubs his optics, "Go ask Sensei Powerhug about the history of sparkbonds."

Streetwise takes that as an opportunity to pick Flicker up. "What a great idea. You have history next, and that's what you can focus on, since everyone seems so intent on it."

"No!" Flicker screeches, kicking his peds wildly. "I'm staying with Oil Slick!"

Streetwise shifts Flicker up and looks in his optics. "If you keep throwing your temper tantrum, you get to stand in the corner with your processor games disabled for the rest of the megacycle."

Flicker falls reluctantly silent, but he glares balefully at Streetwise.

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><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

Transformers Belongs to Hasbro

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><p>Oil Slick settles down on the ground, offlining his optics to drop back into meditation. He doesn't actually go in until the sparklings all leave, but is relieved when they do. He is getting closer to figuring out his old name, sorting through various memories in his processor, when he's suddenly picked up in large arms and squeezed tightly. He onlines instantly looking down at his old sensei, "Sensei Powerhug, what are you <em>doing<em>?"

He's carried out of the garden, and squeezed in a hug even tighter, "You _need _to stay here to teach, Oil Slick. You absolutely must."

"I have no desire to teach the sparklings here when I can be doing experiments on New Kaon." Oil Slick tries to slip out of the arms holding him tight, but his sensei is called 'Powerhug' for a reason. "Frag it, Powerhug. Put me down. I'm not a sparkling any longer."

Sensei carries him to the lounge where the rest of the senseis tend to gather while their sparklings nap or study, and sits on the couch with Oil Slick still in his arms. "If I let you go, you'll vanish."

He squirms, "You don't know that."

His sensei gives him a look, clearly declaring how stupid that is. "How gullible do you think I am, ninjabot?"

He strains to get free, "Not at all, Sensei." He tries flopping around, "How can you _do _this? You couldn't hold me when I was doing my tests!"

Powerhug rolls his optics, "You'd think I'd try my hardest to pin down a bot that we're just making sure can get free of all normal things?"

"Well, I suppose it's good to know that I need to focus on not letting you grab me at all. That way I can get away if I need to." He squirms, and tries his last-ditch escape attempt; he rubs himself against Powerhug's sparkplates.

The mech grunts, "Stop that. I know more about sparkbonds than you do. I know you don't honestly want to interface, so you'll stop squirming like that or I'll have to spank you."

He flickers his optics, "Really?"

Powerhug groans, "I'd forgotten that we _stopped _that punishment for you."

He rests his forehead against Powerhug's, squirming again, "Should I start acting up again if it means you restart it?"

He's moved so he's facing away from the bot, no longer able to rub plates or flicker his optics prettily. "It means that we aren't going to be dealing with all that fragging property damage that came from you ignoring safety procedure just to get a spanking."

A servo squeezes his aft briefly, and Oil Slick hums with pleasure, relaxing against Powerhug. "It feels good to me. Makes my spark heat up, no matter who is doing it." He doesn't know if he did this in his last life, but from what he knows about seekers, he'd be _very _surprised if his circuits had been wired to enjoy playful punishment. Seekers generally didn't work that way.

Although he's wondered more than once if Starscream was mildly masochistic, in the way the seeker loves egging Megatron on into acts of violence.

Powerhug lays him so his aft is sticking up on his lap, and his engine revs in excitement at the hope of it. His sensei rubs his aft, squeezing it, "I _will _spank you, but only if you listen to what I have to say."

He pushes up into the touch, "This first."

He gets a sharp slap to his aft, making his spark jump happily, "Just that one. I need you to listen."

"Mm. I'm listening." He wiggles his aft, trying to entice the mech into spanking him again. "I will listen even better if you heat my aft up first."

His aft gets squeezes firmly, "No, you won't. You bliss out midway through and forget everything you promise to do when you're being spanked. You enjoy this so much that I sometimes wonder if Primus didn't rebuild you to enjoy it. Perhaps it's something your sparkbonded likes."

He shrugs, "I'm _pretty sure _that my bonded is a Decepticon, so I wouldn't be surprised." Blitzwing is just like every other Decepticon in that regard. They fragging love tying a bot up. It isn't really surprising if the bot yanks him anyway. He is still slightly irritated at Strika for pulling him away when Blitzwing was holding him, even if he realizes it was a better idea to go with her.

Powerhug rolls his optics, rubbing his aft and tank, "Right." The mech sighs softly, "I want you to teach the sparklings with me."

"No."

A firm slap to his aft that has his engine revving loudly, "It wouldn't have to be full-time, if you have obligations to the Decepticons. You could come and visit a few times a vorn, give special lessons to the sparklings in oral history. It would be a minor commitment, and the sparklings would love it."

"No." Oil Slick wriggles on his lap. "I have no desire to teach sparklings right now."

Another smack, and he gasps in pleasure. "You were having fun with them just a megacycle ago. You can continue doing that when you come visit. They will all love seeing you."

He squirms, "I don't want to deal with the crushes on me as I show up. Just being there the once a vorn. Bad enough Flicker thinks I'm his bonded when I am _not_."

He's spanked again, making him groan happily and arch into the touch. "You get used to it. They won't be able to sneak into your berth."

Oil Slick lifts his aft into the next hit, wanting the spanking to be less of a tease to his systems. His spark is heating up nicely in his chest, and he wants nothing more than to grind himself all over Powerhug's legs. "I . . I don't want to teach?" his intonation raises slightly, turning it into a question. It's so hard to stay firmly resolved when he's being pleasured this way.

His aft is squeezed, bringing the heat up just a bit, and smacked again, "You _do_, don't you?"

He whines, making a small needy sound, "N-no?"

He's smacked again, and his spark pulses with heat, "You _do_."

"No," he whimpers, grinding his sparkplates on Powerhug, whining even louder when the mech slaps his aft several times in quick succession, leaving his plating heated and stinging.

Then the spanking stops, and he can feel the heat of Powerhug's servo hovering over his aft, "Will you come teach the sparklings? I won't continue unless you will."

"Yes! Yes, I will!" he promises, only vaguely aware of the fact that's he promising to do anything more than accept the rest of his spanking.

The servo drops on his aft, hard and fast. He's so eager for it, so close to overload, and then-

It stops.

Powerhug gently rubs his aft and lifts him up, smiling at him. "So glad you've agreed to come visit and teach sparklings with me, Oil Slick. I look forward to seeing you soon."

Oil Slick whines helplessly, his spark throbbing inside his chest. "I . . you're a fragging cheater, Powerhug."

He's smiled at, and his forehead kissed, glossa flicking out to lick his foreheadscrew, making his spark pulse even hotter. "That I am. You know ninjabots do anything they can to get a job done." He's pushed gently away, Powerhug's servos on his aft, "Go back to meditation. I'm sure you'll have fun there."

He glares, rubbing his chestplates unconsciously, "Like frag I will." He's going to go to his creators' house, and hide in his soundproofed room. Making _certain _to lock the door. He'll try meditating again in the morning.

* * *

><p>Perhaps because he was trying so hard, the answer comes to him, of course, in a dream.<p>

He finds himself sitting on the edge of a very tall building, his long, shapely legs dangling over as he stares at the two brilliant suns setting in the distance. His trinemates would love the view here, and the way the tall buildings in the city provide ample excuse for sweeping turns and aerial maneuvers that leave the groundpounders gasping with awe.

He turns to his lover-his sparkbonded lover-and smiles at him. "I'm glad our lord gave us a vacation. It's beautiful here."

His love takes his servo, kissing it softly, "It is. I knew you would like it."

He leans against his love, optics offline, "I wish we could stay here forever."

His wings are petted softly, "Lord Megatron will want us back soon. Just be happy where we are."

He runs his claws along his love's chest, kissing him softly, "Love you."

"I love you, too, Acid Storm."

His spark sings, and he wakes up. He rubs his optics tiredly, only really remembering his name, and a few other details. He sits up, dragging his knees under his chin, and stares at the wall of his room. "Well... frag."

Starscream is going to murder him.

He'd hidden his sparkbond from his flockleader.

Oil Slick wonders why Acid Storm had done that. Why _he _had done that, since they share the same spark.

Starscream is going to kill him, and then reformat him back into a seeker-which Oil Slick's spark does not want.

He wonders why. There are no records of a seeker reincarnating as anything but a seeker in their next life, though the number of reincarnated sparks are very low, since sparkbonding is still a very rare thing, and most sparkbonded pairs offline together.

He whines softly, curling up. He isn't really sure _what _to do. He should just go straight to his bonded and demand to be together, but he can't even tell if that was really Blitzwing or not. There was no accent that he could trace in it, and he only remembers purple and jetbot.

He feels useless and stupid.

Maybe he should go do _something_. Anything would be better than worrying about this.

He'll do what he always did as a sparkling, and run the obstacle course.

* * *

><p>He looks down at the sparklings on the floor as he stands in the front of the room. They aren't even really <em>sparklings<em>. They're past bot puberty, but not quite adult. "So... all of you want to hear me sing?"

"Yes, please," a large jetbot purrs, shifting his wings in a way that has his spark twitching with interest, if only because the mech is purple. Purple and gold, but still, enough purple to make his spark ache. "You are so very good at it. We want to hear something." His optics dim, "Something from Vos."

He sighs softly, knowing _exactly _what the bots want from him. He's not willing to be optic candy when he already has a sparkling after his spark. He looks over at Powerhug, but the fragger just raises an optic ridge and smirks at him. He looks back at the class, "What kind of song from Vos?"

One of the bots leans forward, voice low in a way Oil Slick is _sure_the bot thinks is seductive, "The oldest one you know."

The oldest one he knows is the one his seeker creators sang to him when he was very young, and taught him about how seekers came to be. That _will _get him murdered in his recharge by any seeker. He decides on something a little more modern. "Very well, this is one about the Emperor Shining Blade, and his sparkling Frostspark."

It's a long song. A _very_l ong one, if only because it is part of a saga, and meant to be sung in seven parts over the course of a long seeker celebration. Again, he goes with a partially translated version of it, intentionally flubbing the pronunciation of several important words in Vosian, so any seeker watching the inevitable recordings of this won't suspect that he can speak the language fluently. If he can't pronounce basic words correctly, he obviously found the song on a datapad somewhere, or on a recording of one of their ceremonies-which should not exist. Seekers were quite protective of their culture.

He walks around the classroom as he sings, letting his voice carry the song. There are parts that _should _be in a much higher tone that he can not reach, but he lets that flub just a bit out of not wanting to be murdered when the recordings go around.

When he's finished, he sits down on Powerhug's desk, and pulls out a datapad, composing a test as he lets them pepper him with questions. Most of which are very flimsily constructed propositions to get at his spark, but he endures. When he's done, he transfers copies of the questions to all of the students' datapads, he works on filling it out quickly, so that Powerhug has an answer key before leaving the room while everyone is distracted.

He can hear them moaning in complaint at the complicated questions as he leaves.

Serves them right for flirting with a bot they should know is a reincarnated spark looking for its bonded. You don't casually flirt with a bot like that. It's an insult to the very idea of sparkbonding, and even if ninjabots tend to be against the idea of bonding their sparks to another, they respect it. Those sparklings, and the Decepticons he worked with, were not respecting him at all.

If anything, they were deliberately disrespecting him, and saw him as a bot whose only purpose was in the berth-or in the case of the post-puberty sparklings, a bot who entertained them and was good in the berth.

He's paused in the hallway, unsure where he's going to be going, when he hears a sound from the ceiling. He lets Sky Garry drop down next to him. The bot gives him a happy little smile, "So I hear you're teaching the sparklings now, _sensei_."

He glares up at the mech, "Shut up."

He lets the racecar put a servo on his shoulder and guide him out of the main classroom hall. "It isn't a _bad _thing, you know." The bot beams, "I'm a sensei, too."

He raises an optic ridge, "Is _everyone _a sensei now?"

Sky Garry sticks out his glossa, "No. Prowl and Jazz are just here to goof off, for example. You know everyone is welcome to return. You just dropped right into the teaching role when the sparklings came in. Prowl took off when sparklings showed up in the garden when he was meditating."

"Then why is everyone else-"

"Teaching? Well, you managed to avoid it since you were only taking partial lessons with us, but most of us are expected to come back and help teach the sparklings when we graduate, if only to give us more grounding in our ninjabot heritage and culture."

Oil Slick narrows his optics, "I see. I _do _have more important work to do, you know."

He's smiled at, and taken to the teacher's lounge, "You're on a decacycle long vaca-"

He shakes his head, "No, I'm _not_. I'm only here for another sol, and then I need to travel across the galaxy again." And likely get screamed at by Starscream for knowing things about Vos no one should know at all.

Sky Garry smiles, "That's fine. Powerhug told you that you can just be here for a sol every vorn, and that would be enough." The bot flickers his optics at him, "I hear you already have a bot claiming to be your bonded."

"I have a minibot who wants to bond with me because he thinks that the temple fortune-teller is a foolproof method of finding your bondmate." Oil Slick moves away when Sky Garry tries to draw him close. "Fragger. I'm not even your type. You like the big and hulking and blue."

Sky Garry shrugs, "Doesn't mean I can't enjoy holding you. You're a cuddly little bot. I doubt that's changed much since you joined up with the Decepticons."

He sighs, letting himself get drawn into the larger mech's lap, and leans on his chest, "I try not to let myself get held by anyone there. They take it as an invitation."

He's rubbed on the tank soothingly, "Well, I'm not taking it this way."

He smiles, a tiny quirk of the lips, "You never _did _approach me when we were in classes."

Sky Garry's servos rub his helmet, "You're a sparkbonded bot. I was told by my creators to leave you be."

"That doesn't stop most bots," Oil Slick points out, honestly enjoying the cuddling. It feels good to be held close to a warm spark, without the threat of interfacing hovering over him. "Have you managed to frag the Magnus yet? Or are you still fragging your spark to images of him every night?" His crush was painfully obvious.

"He has . . not been receptive to the advances I have made." Sky Garry looks a bit sheepish, "But I have not made many advances towards him. It always seemed disrespectful. He projects this sense of . . purity of spark and goodness. Asking for a frag always feels like I am defiling that."

He scoffs, "And you call yourself a ninjabot." He knows what the bot means, though. Ultra Magnus does seem too ... pure to do that to. He's not even fond of Autobots, but he can see that the Magnus is untouchable in a way that Lord Megatron will never be.

Sky Garry sighs softy, "I know. I should just retire and declare myself a failure." The bot smiles at him, hugging him a little tighter, "Too bad I'm just not that kind of bot, huh?"

He sticks out his glossa, "He could be pinning for another bot. You could just ask him. Did you ever show up in his berth and say that you want him?"

"Of course not. He does not invite my model type to his . . . Conquest games."

Oil Slick narrows his optics, thinking about the rumors he's heard about those games. Ultra Magnus is known for fancying truckbot frames, but the mech apparently never takes any of them to his berth. "He trained under Yoketron for a short while. You could ask sensei for suggestions." And ask if Ultra Magnus had somehow escaped ninjabot classes a virgin.

The mech shrugs, "I suppose, but since Prowl keeps harassing him, it is significantly harder to find Master Yoketron."

Oil Slick shrugs, "You could still try. Go hit on Prowl for a bit. Maybe Yoketron will show up then."

"That seems very counter-intuitive. Yoketron is avoiding Prowl, why would-"

He cuddles against the bot, "I'm pretty sure that Yoketron likes Prowl a little too much. Doesn't want to get attached. You can guess how well that's going."

"Ah. He's worried about wanting to bond?" Sky Garry rubs Oil Slick's back, patting his aft gently. "He should know that he would not be judged for it. We all face those urges at some point. There is little shame in wanting a deeper relationship with-"

"He was _jealous _when Prowl was asking to interface with me."

"Oh." Sky Garry falls silent for a moment. "He wants Prowl's exclusivity? I'm not sure Prowl can give him that."

He nods, cuddling close, "It is very unlikely to happen. I am not sure that I would be able to do such a thing if I wasn't sparkbonded and every 'face that isn't with my bonded is terrible."

Sky Garry smiles at him, "You are allowed to do what you want, Oil Slick." The bot frowns, "I know I couldn't be exclusive. Not even for Ultra Magnus."

He laughs softly, "I imagine that he wouldn't ask you to be. He was a ninjabot once. Possibly still considers himself one. You should go ask him if he'd be willing. The worst he'd do is say no, and everyone knows that isn't the end of the world."

"I will consider it when I return to Cybertron later. However, right now, I wish to enjoy the bot currently cuddled on my lap." His servos slides over Oil Slick's aft again, "You've been spanked. Your armor here is all dented up still. I know you hate smoothing spanking dents out."

Oil Slick squirms, pushing his aft up into Sky Garry's servo. "Powerhug tricked me into agreeing to come and teach. The spanking was his way of convincing me to say yes." Primus help him if Megatron or Starscream ever realized how weak he was to spankings.

Sky Garry squeezes his aft, making him rev happily, "You always were incredibly sensitive here. I know several of us wished you did not keep turning us down, just so we could overload against it."

He revs louder at the thought, but shakes his head, "No."

The bot smiles, "It wasn't a proposition. It was just me saying. I am focused on Ultra right now, anyway." He's nuzzled, "I really wish he was into my model type, but I'm just... not a truckbot. I don't have what he wants."

He rubs the mech's side, "Maybe it is just how they look in bot mode that he likes? You have wide shoulders, and a slightly boxy frame. You taper down a bit on the waist like a truckbot."

Sky Garry smiles, tapping his nose, "But I'm a lot bigger than the bots he likes." He touches his chest, "And I have visible intakes here, like a jetbot might. I doubt he finds that attractive. He rarely gives me a second glance, but when a truckbot walks by, he ends up staring at their afts the entire time."

Oil Slick scoffs, and then changes the subject, "Are you enjoying your work in their Transportation Guild? It all sounds dreadfully boring to me. I'd gouge my optics out just to get out of the first sol of work there."

The larger mech pinches his aft, reprimanding him, "You know it's not half as boring as you think it is. We don't all enjoy making things explode. Some of us like making sure that shuttles land on schedule."

He squirms happily, liking how his spark warms at the abuse of his aft, "I don't just do explosions. I have been designing a better alloy of metal that I'm going to be using to replace my armor. Make it thinner and stronger." He pushes into the mech's servo, encouraging more touch, "It is working so far. I am working under Scalpel-"

Sky Garry blinks at him in shock, "The weaver?"

He nods, "Yes, and I am making him a new set of armor from it. He rather likes it so far, and I like how it makes him seem even _tinier_."

"You are a very filthy bot," Sky Garry hums in his audio, squeezing his aft firmly. "Have you found your bonded yet? It is a tragedy for one so filthy to not have a bot to please."

"I have not-"

The servos on him go still. "So you _have _found him? I can tell when you're lying, Oil Slick. Why are you not with him? Has he taken another lover? Rejected your new frame?" The bot strokes his back gently, "You can tell me. I can keep your secrets."

He leans against the mech's chest, glad that they're alone in the room, "I don't want to talk about it here." He knows that there may be any number of bots popping in to see them. Ninjabots are just like that, hiding in the corner and pretending they aren't there.

He's picked up, and Sky Garry nuzzles him, "Well, we can go someplace that _isn't _here. My room, perhaps?"

Normally, that would be an invitation to 'face - he had done the perfect lead up - but he knows the mech won't try to force him, and that isn't just because of the sparkbonding. "Yes." He doesn't want to go back to his creator's house, even if his room is soundproof, and he can keep all other ninjabots out. He's not dealing with them thinking he's 'facing there.

His creators have been asking and pestering constantly, reviewing all the footage they can get of him. They assume that any bot he spends more than one breem with might be his bonded, and they keep making suggestions to him. 'Ooh, maybe you're bonded to this little cyclebot, with the strange denta. Or maybe this tankbot. Or this jetbot.'

It is extremely disturbing that he now knows every bot in the army that his creators wouldn't mind fragging. Makes him shudder a bit.

Sky Garry's room is very plain, with a low ceiling that is entirely free of rafters and unlit corners. It is very difficult to hide up there, even with holographic projectors. Sky Garry likes it that way.

He's gently placed in a chair, and Sky Garry sits on the berth. He frowns; this just won't do. He climbs back into the mech's lap, encouraging touch. He hadn't realized how much he missed just being touched, and not having to worry about the bot wanting his spark.

Sky Garry smiles, rubbing his back, "So you found your bonded?"

He sighs softly, "I don't know." He curls up, holding tightly to the larger bot, "I think I'm a stupid spark_broken_ bot. The bot I think I'm with is already with another."

"You have seen them together?" Sky Garry curls a servo around his waist, a comforting motion that makes Oil Slick always feel a bit fragile.

"No. I have not seen them, but the rumor is all over the base. I remember being with him, but I do not remember _bonding _with him, and none of my memories speak of a sparkbond. I think I came back for nothing."

Sky Garry sighs, "Rumors are terrible things, and rarely accurate. Will you share the name of the bot you think you've bonded to in the past? Perhaps-"

"Blitzwing."

The mech flinches, "Ah." Oil Slick's spark sinks, hating how even an _Autobot _knows what he means. Sky Garry pets his back, "And all the video of him kissing Shockwave. He is... very taken, isn't he?"

His spark hurts, the very idea of it makes him hate that he even refused the well to come for the mech. "Yes. He will not want me. He even said I am not the sort of bot he normally likes."

He's cuddled softly, "And you wouldn't have reincarnated as a bot that your sparkbonded didn't like if you knew what they wanted. If you had been close enough to bond."

He nods, feeling broken. "He has also approached other bots to 'face. He is not... he is not sparkbonded." He was the only bot he knows that was approached by Blitzwing, but that just shows he's more discrete than most of the generals.

"Perhaps your spark was very close to a sparkbond before you offlined?" Sky Garry strokes him, arms curling around him protectively. "There is a record of one bot coming back when their partner had agreed to try for a sparkbond, but they had no chance to do it before the truckbot offlined. The truckbot reincarnated and they managed to complete their bond later. Perhaps you are like that?"

"Or I'm a lovesick ex-seeker," Oil Slick moaned unhappily.

"Ex-seeker?"

He groans, rubbing his face against the mech's chest, "A stupid seeker that has to avoid his flockleader because it is so hard to say no."

His back is rubbed, "That would explain why you were singing about Vos when I walked by the classroom and you were teaching. I bet you know far more than what you're teaching them, huh?"

He whines unhappily, "And I can't actually do everything the way it is supposed to be or Starscream will demand I reformat. I _like _being a cyclebot."

"I wonder why you would reincarnate as a cyclebot if you were a seeker. Bots don't do that, generally. Seekers stay seekers." Sky Garry tips his helm up to study his optics, "Perhaps Blitzwing prefers smaller models? You may have taken a reformat for him."

It's possible, but Shockwave is a hulking brute. If Blitzwing enjoyed hulking brutes, Oil Slick should have come back as a tankbot with a single optic and massively creepy claws.

He sighs sadly, and Sky Garry rubs his back, "I think you look nice."

He laughs, a slightly bitter sound. "Thanks." He leans on the mech, "It is so hard to deal with all of this, and here I am. I just... I may have just substituted Blitzwing in for another bot for all I know. My memories say my bonded is a jetbot, not a triple-changer."

"But Blitzwing went through that reformat, didn't he? So he could be a tank and a jet. You may have been with him before that happened."

His spark hurts, "Or I'm just a stupid sparkbroken seeker that never should have left the Well."

"I trust that Primus would not have allowed your spark to leave if there had not been hope for you here. You say your spark finds interfacing unpleasant? That sounds like the reaction of a sparkbonded spark to me. Not a sparkbroken one. I am certain you will find happiness."

Oil Slick smiles a bit, "You're almost painfully optimistic, Sky Garry."

The mech chuckles, "I am nothing compared to one of the truckbots that Ultra Magnus favors. Do you know what his Autobot designation is? Optimus."

He laughs, wrapping his arms as far around the mech's waist as they can go, "That's pretty hilarious." He snuggles against the bot, "Lay down."

Sky Garry raises an optic ridge, but does as he's asked, "Any reason for this?"

He tugs out a heating blanket, wrapping it around himself, "We're going to take a nap."

The mech smiles, "I suppose we can. I'd be glad to be the only bot sharing a berth with you during your stay here."

"Don't be a jealous aft. I'll nap with whomever I want to." Oil Slick curls up on his chest, "And it just so happens that bot is you this sol. Aren't you lucky?"

Sky Garry chuckles again, "Yes. So very lucky. What would I do without you, little bot?"

He scrapes his claws along the bot's armor, scolding him wordlessly for using that term. "You'd end up with fewer scratches to repair."

"I suppose I would." The mech wraps an arm around him and encourages him to drift into recharge.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

><p>The lab is a gorgeous thing. So warm and pretty, and so very spacious. Oil Slick wonders if he'll be getting lab minions as well, because that would be most excellent. He would love to have little minions running around, scampering back and forth to do his will.<p>

Scalpel sits on his shoulder, tapping tiny peds on his armor, "Do you like it? You vill tell me if you like it."

He rubs his claws along the bot's side, "It is almost perfect. I need to do a little bit of modifications so that any bots I have working for me won't melt when I do my more dangerous experiments, but I don't think I could design it better."

Scalpel preens, "Good. I vanted it perfect, vhile letting you fix zings how you liked." The little weaver nibbles at his claws, "You vill be visiting me every so often, ja?"

He laughs softly, "Like you'd let me ignore you. I bet you will be the one coming to visit me, now that you're all alone."

He's slashed at with tiny claws, "Nein. I vill not. You vill visit me. Zen you vill sing for me like you alvays do. I vill not let you stop."

"Will you leave a schedule out for me," he asks, amused by the tiny bot's antics. "A list of when you expect me to serve as your entertainment. It would be helpful to know when you expect me in your lab."

Scalpel slashes at him again, "Do not zink I vill not do it. You vill come and serve me vhenever I demand it. You are still meine Oil Zlick, even if Megatron requires you to have your own lab. Feh. You vorked just fine in my own."

He smiles, putting the mech on one of the counters, "But I'll work even better here. You won't have me in your way constantly."

Scalpel skitters a little bit closer, leaning against him, "You vere not in my vay. I vanted you zere. You are not going to get avay from me zat easily."

He shakes his head, petting the bot gently, "You constantly yelled about me getting my chemicals all over your machinery. I'm not going to be in your way now. I am willing to keep visiting, just like you want to be with me."

Scalpel nibbles on his claws, "You vill be harassed by Starscream and ze creeperbot. I do not like it. You vill never be left alone."

"They will learn that avoiding my lab means avoiding strange gunk in their gears from all the fumes I intend to keep floating about. It will repel Starscream after he notices a slime layer forming on his wings, and I doubt Shockwave will find me interesting enough to risk his antlers rusting." Oil Slick looks forward to both instances with utter glee. He'd pulled a similar sort of trick off back when he was Acid Storm to his flock leader, and Starscream had been so wonderfully furious with him. It had been worth the gunk on his own wings.

Completely worth it.

Scalpel frowns, "You vill not gunk up _my _joints. I vill make you clean zem."

He smiles, "I'll give you the specialty mix to put in your solvent pool to get rid of it. You won't have to worry about it."

"_You _vill clean zem for me. I vill have you sitting in my vashrack to have you clean me."

He flicks one of the bot's antennae playfully, "Not going to have Dreadwing do it? He's much better at it than I would be. You know he helped me with making your armor."

"I vill have _you_ do it because you caused ze problem. I am not going to punish my Dreadving for somezing zat you created. If I have gunk in my joints, zen you vill vash them out and be zankful zat I do not require you to do it viz your _glossa_."

At least the slime and gunk were not too foul tasting. He was well aware of the risk of any of the bots demanding he clean them that way. "How kind of you."

Scalpel nips at his claws, "Now you vill give me a kiss."

He barks out a laugh, moving away, "No." He turns around, setting up various parts of his new lab, "I'm not going to do that at all. You will just have to live with the fact that I'm no longer just going to do any random thing you demand."

Scalpel hops up and down angrily, an incredibly adorable gesture that is lost on the weaver, "Nein! You vill do as I say! I vill not let you ignore me!"

"I am not ignoring you, but I am not your minionbot either. You can request things of me, but I am not obligated to do them unless Megatron himself orders me to." The little bot fumes, and Oil Slick presses a kiss to the top of his head. "That being said, I do still care for you, Scalpel. I am not abandoning you. But you must treat me like your equal now. I will not accept you treating me like a toy for your enjoyment."

Scalpel hisses at him, and then settles down, folding his legs under him, expression and tone quite grumpy. "Fragger."

He smiles, "You will get used to it, Scalpel. Then you'll realize how much happier you are on your own and not dealing with me suddenly dropping down from the ceiling and surprising you."

The weaver clicks his mandibles together, "I do not like having to start over because you are _too quiet_. You vill not valk like zat around me."

He smirks, walking over to the bot silently, "Like this?"

"Ja! You vill _not _do it! You vill have a bell put on you. You are like a cybercat, and I vill not-"

"And cybercats learn to walk with bells silently. I already know how, and covering me in them will not help you in that at all."

"Feh. You are a constant zorn in my side." Scalpel narrows his optics, "Vhy do I put up viz you? Is it because you are such a pretty mech and I vant your spark? Mm. Perhaps zat is it. If you do not see ze vorziness of serving as my minionbot zen you cannot be a valuable sciencebot. I must have been deluding myself." The mech skitters away, off the table. "You vill come around eventually, and I vill be vaiting for you."

Oil Slick watches him go and sighs, shaking his head. "That mech is . . something else."

He hums softly as he sets everything up, starting to sing quietly a klik or so later. It isn't long before he stops, feeling a presence at the door, and looks behind him. Megatron is looking at him with dim optics, leaning against the door, "Don't stop just because I'm here, Oil Slick. It is nice to see that you're enjoying the lab."

Once, when he was very young, he would have been embarrassed about being caught singing, but he has long since had such reactions trained out of him. "Thank you, my lord." He returns to putting things away, "Did you need something, sir?"

Megatron walks in, rubbing his large servo over one of the counters, "Not quite yet, but I'm sure I'll figure something out." The bot touches his back, "Have you designed that thinner armor for yourself yet?"

Oil Slick tenses a bit. He has, but he has yet to put it on for more than testing. It makes him look so much thinner, and he knows the kinds of reactions he'll be getting if he walks around the base that way. "It is not yet finished. I am working on the final touches."

The servo drifts down to his aft, squeezing it firmly, and Oil Slick bites his glossa to keep from moaning. It takes every ounce of willpower to not shove his aft back and demand more. "I would love to see you in it when you finish, my sciencebot. Perhaps you could replace your treads as well?" The mech rubs one of his arms lightly, "Something more supple. Soft. It would suit you."

"And General Strika would yell at me about how I am not a prostibot, and shouldn't be trying to ruin our missions with cosmetic changes, my lord. It is better not to, since you like to ship us off at a moment's notice."

The treads are rubbed again, a little more demandingly, "You made the thinner armor stronger. Scalpel is increasingly distracting when he moves around, he's so very tiny now. You could do the same with your treads."

He has to keep from gasping in pleasure as Megatron squeezes his aft a little harder, "I could try, my liege. I am not sure how well it would work."

"It would work wonderfully, I'm sure." Megatron rubs his aft and then squeezes it hard enough to dent the metal, and Oil Slick can't help but mewl with pleasure, shoving his aft back for more. "Until then, I suppose I will enjoy your frame the way it is." He pushes Oil Slick forward, pinning him against the table. "Do you think you'll overload when I rub my spark on your aft?"

Oil Slick jerks, his spark throbbing at the idea. "I . . my liege, I am a reincar-"

"Yes, yes, I am well aware of that." There's a soft clinking of metal behind him, and Oil Slick's spark throbs harder. "Let me chain you down. As long as my spark does not touch yours, you should enjoy this."

He shivers, then shakes his head, "My lord, you are not-"

A chain rubs against his back, "You will enjoy it. You know you will. Don't think about your sparkbonded, think about me."

This is something that is just... not allowed. If he refuses, they're supposed to _stop_. This is not supposed to happen.

He's pinned down, being held solidly as Megatron rubs the chain over his frame, "I can feel how hot your spark is, just through your armor." The bot nips him, slowly winding the chain around his arms, "I am going to enjoy this."

Oil Slick swallows around a dry intake and shudders, "My liege. . I . . cannot." He twists out of Megatron's hold, used to far firmer grasps from Powerhug, and hides in the ceiling, tucking himself into a vent.

Megatron curses loudly, and lets the chain dangle like a tease from one servo. "Get back here, Oil Slick. If you come down now I will not punish you for running from me."

He trembles, and slowly crawls through the vents, away from his lab and the bot who keeps making his spark pulse uncomfortably.

* * *

><p>Oil Slick shifts a tiny bit, not sure if he likes his brand new alt-mode reformat.<p>

They got sent to Earth, and had to choose new modes. He already had his given to him, very first thing. It seems that Megatron had not forgotten him in the little time he'd been missing, and still very much wanted to use his frame like a toy. Especially if the way he looks is anything to go by.

He is thin. Insanely thin. He feels a bit like he could snap in half if he moves wrong. In fact, he is not so fond of the fact that he's going to have to replace his armor to thin it out again. His reformat thickened him up, and ruined his integrity. He _could _snap because of the armor being wrong now.

Even if he rather likes the fact that his shoulder decoration has two very curly horns that light up wonderful sensors at his touch, and his handle bars are deliciously sensitive. He also really loves that his treads got changed to tires. They are... surprisingly comfortable.

The way his claws fold down into them just beg for all sorts of filthy things, like having a lover chain his servos closed so he can't even use his claws to break free from the restraints. His aft is still deliciously pert and sensitive, if quite a bit smaller now. The most surprising change is his peds. They've always been sensitive, but now, rubbing a claw along a toe pipe, Oil Slick shudders with the knowledge that he could have a tactile overload from stimulation to this part of himself alone.

He's not sharing that fact with Megatron.

He looks like a prostibot.

There are spikes all over him, which really only makes him look like a well-decorated prostibot.

Strika pokes his side, "You vill need to be careful to stay out of anyvone's berth, Oil Slick. I vill not allow you to be damaged because a bot vas foolish enough to try to force you into something you do not vant."

He waves a servo, "I will be fine." He hums thoughtfully, "I want to go search the planet, and see what is going on here."

She scoffs, "Go meet zat ozer ninjabot on ze Autobots, you mean. You are very transparent."

He shrugs, "We got image captures of the bots, and I recognized Prowl. You should be _glad _that I know these things."

"Oh, I am very glad. I vould be happier if you vould find the bot you are meant to bond vith and get out of the moping that you do every stellar cycle. You vill be more useful to us then." Strika pushes him away. "Go, go. Ve vill make your excuses to Lord Megatron. I vant you to get out and do something useful for us. Get intel on the bots here."

Oil Slick childishly sticks out his glossa at her and dodges the swipe she aims at him. "Fine. I'll go. No need to push me."

She points at one of the openings out of the base, "Go. Or vill I have to assign you to a more difficult task? I vill not mi-"

He disappears before she can finish what she's saying, and quickly rushes out of the base. When he's far enough away, he pulls out his datapad on the bots here, and starts to walk. He doesn't really care if some organic finds finds him. He won't have a false one on his vehicle mode, anyway, so it would be blindingly obvious that he's not really supposed to be there.

He hums softly, flipping through the datapad absently. There is not very much on this at all, pretty much all of it is guess work and sketchy guesswork at that. Barely even worth looking at, really. They only have the name of Prowl, and that's _only _because he was the one to put it in. Prowl is the one with the most information, just because of what little he remembers while working with him in school.

He skims the rest, and then blinks, finding that the minibot has a name as well. Bumblebee.

He knows who to blame for that tidbit of information. Fragging mono-opticked creeperbot.

There's also a little comment in the bottom of that file: 'Capture alive if possible. -General Shockwave.' Looks like some bot wants a mini for their harem. Shockwave is such a rapebot.

Oil Slick sighs, and then stops. And stares.

Stares down at the strange, fluffy creature staring back up at him. It is some kind of disgusting organic, but it seems unafraid of him. It has the same twisty horns that his shoulder decoration does.

He puts the datapad away, and kneels down to look at the thing. It is... adorable in a gross organic way.

He kinda wants it as a pet, but does not want to damage it with his black thumb. He kills organic things by getting too close to them, but he doesn't know if it is just plants or it also includes things like... this fluffy thing.

He holds out his servo, and it snuffles at his claws before bleating at him and running off.

He wants to pet it.

In private, so that it doesn't get back to the other Decepticons that the zombie-mech does have a spark. He will never live it down if they find out he wants this.

Oil Slick follows the fluffy thing, which looks like a white fluffy ball of whipped energon with legs as it bounces around through the organic grass. Oil Slick glances down at his peds and shrugs as the grass withers away everywhere he steps. He's not entirely comfortable leaving such an obvious trail, but he doesn't have much of a choice, really. Eventually, the organic creature slows down and stops in a group of other fluffy organics. Some of them have horns and some do not.

He... really wants one. Far more than he should.

He reaches out again, and they snuffle at him before scattering.

He knows he _could _just pick one of them up and keep it, but that would sort of ruin what he's doing. He wants one that doesn't take off when he gets near, so that he can have it in his rooms and it won't freak out or be upset when he returns. He knows that some of the bots have a pet organic, and he doesn't see why he shouldn't have one of his own.

He can just declare that he doesn't want one that talks back.

He could modify it in his lab. Of course, he'd likely need to get several of them to test the mods on so his favorite would only be subjected to safe alterations. He could extend its pathetic organic life. Make it capable of fueling on energon. Perhaps the energon would turn the strange fluffy white parts into fluffy pink. It would be a very cute pet then.

Oil Slick sits in the grass, and it dies around him, and he waits patiently as the fluffy organic balls dart towards him, and then away.

He is pretty sure one of them is going to sit next to him, and that will be the one he keeps safe, when he's suddenly tackled from behind, and pinned in the dirt. He struggles to get up, ready to murder whoever did this when he hears, "I wasn't expecting to _ever _see you here. What are you even doing?"

He knows that voice, and he shoves the mech off of him. "Fragger. You scared all of them away."

Prowl looks around, "The sheep? They'll be back eventually. You know you can't stay out here, you're killing everything."

Which is true enough, there's a gigantic dead patch of grass all around him. He sighs and stands up, "I'll come back later, then."

The other cyclebot wraps an arm around his waist, tugging him along, "Let's go talk in a safer place for you."

He allows Prowl to lead him away from the fluffy things . . the sheep. He'll be back. And he'll catch one and take it home with him. Prowl guides him into a strange patch of paved land. One of the main roads, well away from the fields of sheep and organic mulch. "You disappeared for a very long time. Yoketron was constantly pestering me to see if I knew where you were. You couldn't have sent him a message while you were on that pathetic ship with the Autobots?"

Prowl shrugs easily, "There was rarely any way to contact anyone. We had one long-range com, and it was limited to emergency calls. I had planned on contacting him when we reached a decently inhabited planet, but . . the Allspark intervened."

He nods, resting his head on top of Prowl's. "Yoketron missed you a very great deal."

Prowl snorts, "I'm amazed that you were allowed to be in contact with Autobots, Decepticon. How did you get away with it? I know that if I had even _tried _to contact you, the ship would have reported it."

Oil Slick smiles, "I'm here for recon, and I was _clearly _gathering information on you horrible Autobots while talking to my old sensei. It is surprisingly easy to spin this sort of thing to my advantage. In fact, I am doing information gathering right now. I have you at my mercy."

"Oh, am I at your mercy now?" Prowl tugs on him and Oil Slick ends up on his back on the road, the heated pavement almost blissfully warm as the mech pins his wrists down. "I rather think it's the other way around, don't you?" The ninjabot studies him with dim optics, "You're so much thinner now. And taller."

Oil Slick squirms a bit, testing his grip, revving when the servos on him tighten almost painfully. "And you are more of a brute than I remember, dearest Prowl. All this time with repairbots has roughened your edges."

Prowl presses a kiss to his lips, a rather cautious one that Oil Slick has never gotten from the bot before. He kisses back, letting Prowl flick his glossa in his mouth and control the pace. Poor bot must miss ninjabots a very great deal to go after him. He will not be doing more than this, and Prowl knows it. The bot pulls away after a bit, optics dim, "You _like _it when I shove you around, so that is what I will do."

He smiles, shaking his head, "So hard up for partners that you are flirting with a sparkbonded bot?"

Prowl growls playfully, "So you found your bonded, then?"

"Not exactly." Oil Slick slips out from under him and stands tall. "Now, enough of this. I am here to inspect your base and spy on you." He drapes himself over Prowl's shoulders, licking a fairing playfully, "Take me there. Isn't it your duty to capture big, bad Decepticons."

Prowl pats his aft, "I wouldn't exactly call you _big_."

Oil Slick pouts, "You're hurting my delicate feelings, Prowl. You are a terrible Autobot. They should send you back for remedial lessons."

Prowl laughs softly, walking with him, "Not going to work. They tried, and here I am again."

He wraps his legs around the bot's waist, letting Prowl carry him in a slightly more comfortable way, and smiling as the bot starts to run, "We are notoriously difficult to train, this is very true."

Prowl picks up the pace, "I'm not taking you to my room on the base. You'll kill my tree."

He rests his head on top of Prowl's, "No recharging in your berth together?"

"Absolutely not. You'll kill my tree, and I love that tree." He pats Oil Slick's aft again. "But we could always borrow Optimus's room. He has a nice, sturdy berth. Very good for fragging on, though it's not wise to let him know that we've been using it for such purposes." He wonders who Prowl has fragged on that berth. The name . . Optimus, it niggles at him.

"Optimus is a truckbot, isn't he?"

Prowl tips his helm to one side, "Yes. He's a very hot-afted truckbot. One that doesn't like sharing his spark."

He hums thoughtfully, "I think Sky Garry talked about him. Does the Magnus like him?"

Prowl makes an irritated sound, and grinds out, "Wouldn't stop staring at him whenever he thought Optimus wasn't paying attention."

He hums softly, "Most likely the same one, then." He frowns, "Did Sky Garry ever manage to frag the Magnus?" He doubts it, but maybe Prowl would know.

The bot shakes his head, "Nope. Jazz filled me in on it. He tried a few times, and Ultra kept rejecting him. Bot only likes truck models, won't go for something like Garry. He's just not into racecars." Prowl frowns, "Which is disappointing, since he is also really hot. I fragged him a few times. Nice hot spark.'

"I wouldn't know." Oil Slick sighs, and then frowns. "This is your base? Prowl, even for you, this is a slum." He waves his claws in disgust, "I've seen nicer buildings after the seekers have dropped bombs on them."

Prowl wraps an arm around his waist, "It's the best we have right now. Don't insult it or I'll make you stay out here and not let you have any of our energon."

Oil Slick arches an optic ridge, "I doubt you have any energon of quality."

Prowl huffs, "I'll have you know that I stole it out of the Steelhaven myself."

He snorts, "And your leader just allowed it?"

Prowl smirks, "I just said that it was given to us. No need to explain how."

He nods, approving of it, "If they don't give you something good enough, just replace it with something of theirs." He nudges Prowl's side, "How many times did Yoketron come back with new things and no one the wiser on Cybertron?"

Prowl barks out a laugh as they walk in, "More times than it is worth counting."

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

Yanked out porn in this chapter. Look at it on livejournal.

Transformers belongs to Hasbro

* * *

><p>Inside of the Autobot base is just as abysmal as the outside, and Oil Slick sighs, "You really are slumming it, aren't you?" He pats the bot on his shoulder and separates from him, going over to the consoles and vidscreens to snoop.<p>

"Hey, Prowl," the minibot on the couch says quietly, "who's the cyclebot?"

"Oil Slick."

The minibot yelps, optics widening, "You brought the fragging zombie-mech to our base?"

He bows, "My reputation precedes me. How wonderful." He pokes at the console, hoping for some information to return with.

The minibot, Bumblebee if he remember what the datapad said, jumps up, charging his stingers, "Get out!"

Prowl puts a servo on the mech's shoulder, "Calm down. He's perfectly harmless. We went to ninjabot school together. On Haydon IV."

Bumblebee frowns, putting his arms down in confusion, "What?"

"We attended ninjabot school together," Oil Slick repeats slowly, as if speaking to a particularly dimwitted sparkling. "Prowl is one of my dearest friends. I would only crush his spark if he truly deserved it." He dims his optics playfully at the minibot, "Yours, on the other servo . . well, there is a certain someone in the Decepticon ranks that has an order out to capture you online if possible."

Bumblebee shudders, "You're makin' that up, Decepticreep."

"Not at all, and it might even be worth it to take you so that he leaves _me _alone."

Prowl frowns, "They've been harassing you? Even though you're sparkbonded?"

He ignores the minibot's gasp of amazement and makes a face, "Of course they are. I haven't found him," rather tried to stay away from Blitzwing's tempting frame, "and they want to try for me. That didn't stop _you_, did it?"

The minibot makes an indignant sound, pointing at Prowl accusingly, "You fragged a sparkbonded bot? How _could _you?"

"We were young, and did not know what was so different about him. It was worth it to try back then." Prowl rests a servo on Oil Slick's shoulder, "But it was unsatisfying. We got very little from it."

Oil Slick nods, "My spark longs for another. One that I have not found yet." Will never find. Ever. Because he was constantly kept away from Blitzwing by Chaar. Strika had something of a grudge against Blitzwing, presumably because the mech often licked Lugnut as Random, upsetting her consort terribly.

He gives up on looking at the console, since it seems to have nothing on it of any importance, and flops into the couch. He makes a face, pulling out several metal meshes to spread on it to make it more comfortable as the minibot asks cautiously, "Do you think you'll find him?"

He shrugs, "Possibly." He tugs Prowl on the metal mesh next to him, and his fellow ninjabot almost melts on it. "I hope so, but it has been a _very _long time." He flicks his optics over the minibot, "Longer than you've been online, little Autobot."

The minibot bristles, "I am not some _sparkling_!"

The bot acts like a spoiled sparkling. "Perhaps a few sols in one of Shockwave's minibot cages would teach you some patience and manners."

The minibot's optics widen, and he stutters, "M-minibot cages? _Cages_?"

"How else do you think he keeps his pets?" Oil Slick was actually speculating. He had no idea what went on in that mech's chambers when he took his captive minibots in there, and absolutely no desire to learn either.

Prowl flicks at his headscrews, making him hiss. "Stop scaring him. He doesn't need this." He's kissed on the neck, "He has been fighting Decepticons for several stellar cycles. He is no longer any sparkling I can think of."

Oil Slick shrugs, "I suppose."

Bumblebee cautiously climbs onto the metal mesh, unsure if he's allowed, and yelps when Oil Slick tugs him against his side. "Let go of me, fra-"

He puts his claw against the bot's mouth, "Hush. You want to be comfortable, and I'm letting you. Calm down. I can't believe that you all are in such a run down building. We have a mountain that we converted into a comfortable base. You have... this."

"We are not so concerned with our comfort," Prowl says quietly. "We care more for the safety of the life on this planet. Most of our time that we could spend working on the base is spent helping with repairs in the cities.

Oil Slick . . does not care. Really, does not care at all. They're organics and if they get in the way, they end up offline. Now, he's not like Scalpel. He doesn't delight in picking organics apart to see what makes them tick, but he's not overly sympathetic with them either.

After all, nature seems to hate him. Why not hate it right back?

Even if he wants a sheep, he'll be fixing it so it runs on proper fuel. It will be so cute in his room, making little bleating sounds and being given energon candy from his claws.

He needs to get a cute one that won't run from him. One that is already domesticated into a proper pet. He doesn't want to train it, not like how most of the other bots had to with their organic pets.

He's interrupted from his thoughts by the green Autobot coming in. He wouldn't say he's big, being far too used to normal Decepticon sizes to ever think large Autobots are actually big. The mech blinks at them for a moment then asks, "... Why do we have a Decepticon that you're cuddling on the couch?"

"He's a Decepticon spy, and we're restraining him." Prowl rests his head on Oil Slick's chest, not even pretending he's doing anything other than cuddling. "He's a friend of mine from long ago. He-"

"Did you ever get around to fragging sensei Yoketron?" Oil Slick asks curiously, unsure if the bot ever managed to sneak his way into that berth. "Or did you spook when you realized he was planning on bonding some sol with you?"

Prowl's visor flashes, "Sensei has no intention of bonding with me, you lying aft."

He snorts, "Because he _wasn't _jealous when you started kissing me and trying to shove me into a berth just to get his attention."

Prowl nods, ignoring his sarcasm, "Exactly. Sensei isn't interested in anything with-"

"You think that because you most likely spent vorns and vorns just _meditating _like a fragger instead of experiencing life like you're supposed to." He pokes the bot, "You act so much younger than you should because of it."

Prowl huffs, "I know processor over matter, I'll have you know. I would say all that time medi-"

"Pushed you further away from him. You'll miss your chance if you don't. Sensei is old. He won't come back if you don't bond."

"Alpha Trion is _older_. You can't threaten me with sensei's offlining. He will be online for a very long time. Long enough that if I do," he huffs, "some sol decide to . . bond, we will be able to."

Oil Slick shrugs, "Do what you think best. Just know that if . . one of you offlines, you won't have the chance again." Not unless they're stupid like Acid Storm and decide to come back without a bond and without any sign that Blitzwing even remembers the seeker.

Prowl pauses, "Do... do you think that your sparkbonded offlined while you were growing up, and just never came back from the Well?"

He shakes his head, "No."

"You're very certain sounding. Is there any rea-"

He puts his claws in Prowl's mouth, and looks at the green Autobot still standing there. "What's your name?" May as well get more information to report back.

The mech shuffles his peds, looking uncomfortable, "Bulkhead."

He nods, holding out his servo to shake, "Oil Slick."

"_The _Oil Slick?" Bulkhead reaches out hesitantly, and gently clasps Oil Slick's servo in his three pincer fingers, shaking his servo a bit. "I'm uh . . honored, I guess? I hope you don't want to poison us all. Do you want a frozen energon treat? Sari made them for us, and they're really good."

He has no idea who 'Sari' is, or what frozen energon might look like. But the minibot perks up against his side, "Slag yeah, time for frozen energon pops. Bring them out, Bulkhead."

He watches as Bulkhead heads out of the room, most likely to get the frozen energon, and asks, "Is it a sweet?"

"It is," Prowl murmurs, cuddling close, "Optimus likes the ones with crystals we've managed to get, but I like the ones with rustflakes." The mech smiles, "Surprisingly easy to get rust flakes here, actually. Earth has a great deal of rain, and-"

"What the _frag_ is he doing here?" They all blink when a red and white bot stomps into the room, "That's fraggin' _Oil Slick_. How did he even sneak in here?"

"I didn't sneak in. I was invited." He kisses Prowl's cheek playfully, trying to pinpoint where he knows the red and white bot from. He swears he's seen him somewhere before, and the vocal code sounds familiar too. But he can't quite place it.

Magnet weapons charge up, and Oil Slick arches an optic ridge at the bot, who growls at him, "You get your slagging sadistic, sick aft out of our base. You want a count of how many bots have died because of your sick inventions?"

Ah. Now he knows. It's that medicbot. That whole cosmic rust affair. Too bad he can't remember the mech's name.

He shrugs, "I am rather surprised you have an exact number. I certainly don't have one, and I get a datapad filled with information that Shockwave has gathered on stats Autobots have of me. I just stopped caring after about a thousand. And that was... awhile ago." He can't even remember how long ago he stopped caring about these things. It just... stopped being important after he did enough of it. He got to where he is by being ruthless, but it is easy to be ruthless when all you see are bots on the other side of you that you just can't begin to care about.

Just another number on the datapad, or another supply of things he needs for his lab. He could use a few more sparks for his rarer chemicals, but he just can't even care enough to kill a bot right now. Besides, the only ones here to do that are the bots he's sitting with.

If the reports are anything to go by, he'll be dead before he starts. Better not to bother.

They're surprisingly vicious little Autobots. Oil Slick thinks they would make good berthwarmers for the Decepticons. Put the whole team in collars and offer them to Megatron and his generals. With the exception of Blitzwing, of course. No slutty Autobot harem pets for Blitzwing. Only Oil Slick should get to taste that perfect spark.

He sometimes dreams at night about snuffing out Shockwave's spark with toxic chemicals so he can have full access to Blitzwing.

He's not had much of a chance to see if the rumors about them were true. Chaar has kept him occupied, and Blitzwing is often away on long missions, as is Shockwave. His disguised time as Longarm had been one of the best of Oil Slick's life. No creeperbot around Blitzwing.

He still hadn't been able to sneak into Blitzwing's berth, though. Constant missions with Team Chaar are rarely fun, and give him little to no free time to pose prettily for a triple-changer.

And he _can _pose so he looks his hottest. He has been carefully practicing in front of a mirror. Not that he will ever admit to such a thing out loud. He could even feign recharge in the middle of posing like that. Which is very helpful when his team leader decides that she suddenly needs into his room for no reason at all.

Fragging the bot would be the quickest way to tell if they'd been sparkbonded in the past. If their sparks suddenly bound themselves again, then Oil Slick was his reincarnated sparkmate. If they did not . . then Oil Slick would enjoy the frag and then curl up and cry when Blitzwing had fallen into recharge. And know that Primus is a cruel god.

"I don't give a slag. You're not gonna stay in _my _base, you sadist," the medicbot growls, and Oil Slick sighs dramatically.

"I can tell when I am not wanted. I suppose I should go." He kisses Prowl, glossa flicking against his lips playfully. "Another time, perhaps, my love. We will see each other on the battlefield, and you can show me what nasty Autobot tricks you've picked up."

Prowl smiles, "We're keeping your metal mesh."

He holds his servo over his chestplates, standing up, "Oh no. How will I live without one of my metal meshes?"

The mech slaps him on the aft so hard he dents, making his engines roar, "Get out of here, Oil Slick. You're upsetting Ratchet."

And now he has the names of all the bots.

All in all, a productive excursion out of the base.

He smiles, "Of course. I'll be go-"

Bulkhead walks in, looking disappointed, "Oh... so you don't want-"

He ignores Ratchet's angry growling, and is instantly leaning on the green bot, "Of course I do. You can even have a few candies in trade."

"Oh. . you don't have to give me anything. Sari's the one who made them." The big green bot offers him a tray. A very cold tray. "Here. You can have this. But you should find a bot to share them with. It's greedy to keep them all for yourself."

Oil Slick arches an optic ridge. Autobots were such strange beings. "I will share them." He plucks one of the strange treats out. There's a . . rust stick running up through the center of a frozen pink block of energon. He's never seen anything like that before. He'll give one to Scalpel. Watch the bot lick it with his teensy glossa.

He puts it in his subspace, and pulls out a second. He glares at the whine of the medic's weapons, "I am _going_. You don't need to rush me like this." He reaches into his subspace and pulls out one of the boxes of candy he has, and frowns at it, "That is very odd." It is one of the ones he _should _have sent to his mothers. Shrugging, he puts it in Bulkhead's servo, "There. You can have this. My creators will just have to go without this batch. I'm too far away from Haydon IV to send it right now, anyway."

Prowl perks up, looking amazed, "We'll give you the entire tray if we can have another box."

He frowns, "I don't know. It is some of my specialty candy, and I'm only giving it to him because-"

"Give us another box, and we'll get you three more trays."

Bumblebee yelps, "But that's all that we have!"

"It's worth it," Prowl hisses, and Oil Slick takes that as his cue to leave. He doesn't have all the time in the world to make candy. It's a valuable trade commodity, and he's not passing off another box for frozen treats of dubious quality. Now, had the 'Sari' responsible for them been there, he might have offered her a box for information on how to freeze energon. He'd thought it was impossible, considering the rather unique nature of the fuel. How did one keep the fuel from exciting and simply turning back into liquid slush? It took a special additive to get it to whip, and it must take something special to get it to freeze.

He'll figure something out. He has two to experiment on. One if he gives one to Scalpel, just to watch him eat it. The bot will demand he share, in the hope to kiss him.

Which is not at all a bad thing.

But first, he wants to get himself a pet _sheep_. Maybe it will turn pink from the energon. He'll get one of the ones with horns if he can, but he needs to have a pet that is so fluffy and adorable.

He skulks off to one of the fields, and perches atop the wood fence, waiting for a sheep to come over to him. One of them will prove themselves worth of his love and affection, and then it will be his forever. The fluffballs run around in the grass, stopping now and then to shove their faces in it and chew on it for unknown purposes. He wonders if they fuel on the organic mulch. It seems like a disgusting way to fuel when energon is available.

He waits as patiently as he can, which means he's twitching after a breem or so, wondering why his sheep hasn't selected itself and come over to him yet.

He is considering just grabbing one and leaving with it. He can cut it apart and experiment on it so he knows how to fix it up into a functional pet. He can wait for a better one when he's more relaxed. Possibly after a self-servicing session so he's not as twitchy.

He would like to do that on Blitzwing's berth, but that will be done on his own, unfortunately. He has no fraggin' clue where Blitzwing is right now, anyway.

He slips off the fence, and starts to walk over to one of the sheep. He grabs it quickly, before it can run off, and carefully pets it so it will calm down.

It makes a terrible noise and then there's foul-smelling liquid on his servos. Oil Slick drops the thing, disgusted, holding his servos out in front of him.

"You should wash your servos in ze water over zere," a familiar voice comes from behind him, tinged with the mad cackle that means that Random is in charge. "Ze organic fluids are not good for your joints. Zey get zem all sticky. It is ze same way wiz zeir internal juices when you squish zem under a ped." Blitzwing drops down into the grass and slowly creeps towards one of the sheep. "I did not know zat you liked zem too, Oil Zlick. Aren't zey adorable?"

If he didn't already love the bot, he's sure he would have fallen head over heels for Blitzwing at that. "Yes. They're really adorable." He reluctantly moves to where the water is that was mentioned and cleans off the liquid on his servos, "Do you come to see them much?"

Random looks over his shoulder to him, that maniacal grin firmly placed, and nods excitedly, "Ja! Zey are so wonderful, and I love how zey talk. Not like a human at all. I do not know how to do ze mods, or I would have one in my room."

He moves closer to the bot, putting a cautious servo on the mech, "I am thinking about modifying them. They won't have the same basic modifications that the humans get."

"Ja, but ze humans are boring. Zey are not cute and fluffy, and," Blitzwing scoops a sheep up and cuddles it, the thing bleating loudly in his arms, "zey love me. I play wiz zem often." The sheep does not leak fluids on Blitzwing, and Oil Slick glares at it.

It bleats at him, and then licks Blitzwing's cheek. Blitzwing giggles, and kisses the top of the sheep's head.

"I like zis one best," the mech confides, holding it out towards Oil Slick. It has a nice set of horns on it, and Oil Slick touches one. The sheep bleats with distress and starts kicking at Blitzwing's armor. Apparently his black thumb makes organics wary of him.

He sighs softly, backing away, "None of them like me. Not at all."

The sheep is set down, and it takes off, trying to stay away from him. Random shrugs, standing up and walking over to him, "We do not need to have ze sheep wiz us." He grins, optics brightening, "You are in a different frame zan when I last saw you!"

He nods, giving the bot a smile. He wishes his spark wasn't fluttering like a cyberfly just because Blitzwing is so close to him. He'll need to be careful not to risk the mech's ire and bring Hothead to the forefront, or he doesn't know what to do to calm him down.

He steps a little closer, "I am." He touches his waist, "Look how tiny this is, like I could just snap in half at any moment."

Blitzwing's engine revs, and the mech grabs him, drawing him against his frame. "You are very pretty. You would look so good in one of ze dresses I could make for you. Somezing wiz a nice, flaring skirt zat would show off your tiny waist." Random curls a servo around it. "I would not break you, not like my dollies." He flips rather abruptly to Icy, and his grip turns much harder, more possessive. "I zink, now zat ze Doctor is not here to interfere, zat we should . . conclude zis evening in my berz, pretty mech."

He cuddles against the bot, practically clinging to the triple-changer. "Are you sure?" He doesn't want to be shoved away.

Icy rubs his side, "You like chains, I like to use zem. You will be lovely on my berz. You are not-" Icy stops, giving him an odd look, "It does not matter what you are not. We will focus on you for now, ja?"

He isn't Shockwave. He can accept that, as long as it means he gets to be with Blitzwing. If his spark doesn't bond, then he's just a silly, stupid seeker. He'll go figure something else out. He's been surviving with a loose sparkbond, he can still live with one if this doesn't work.

He sighs happily, pulling out the tray of energon pops. "Share a treat with me on the way back?" He curls up in Icy's arms, and plucks a frozen pop from the mold, tucking the rest back in subspace. Oil Slick waits until Blitzwing is watching and then flicks his glossa against it, letting his optics dim with pleasure. It helps that it does taste fragging good, but it's nowhere near good enough for the moaning and revving he does.

It certainly doesn't prompt him to lick the pop like it was a spark.

Icy revs as he takes to the air, "How did you get ze energon to freeze like zat?"

He flicks his glossa against it, optics dim, "I went to visit the Autobots. They gave it to me."

Icy blinks at him, "You went to ze Autobots? How did you do _zat_?" The bot's fingers rub along his seams, then the bot smiles, "Nevermind, you can tell me later. For now I want to enjoy watching you eat zat."

Oil Slick holds up the pop for him, "You should try it."

Blitzwing studies him,and then takes a single lick. "It is very sweet. Now put it back in your mouz like a good little bot. I want to see you suck."

Pervert. Oil Slick slides the sweet into his mouth, sucking on it, moaning softly, like he loves the taste. It's really just a normal grade of energon. Very sweet in the frozen state, but nothing too special. It's a nice flavor, but not worth the little whines and mewls he's making around it.

The noises certainly do seem to get Blitzwing revving, though.

His aft is squeezed, making his mewls more genuine, and Icy revs. "Lord Megatron has said zat your aft is very sensitive."

He nods, "It is." Their leader was also very fond of walking into his lab when he wasn't doing anything dangerous, and then slapping him hard on the aft just to make him rev and whine. The bot doesn't do it as much as he could, if only because Oil Slick had taken to subtly adding things to his energon for a stellar cycle afterwards. Nothing that could be pinned on him, but he knows that Megatron realizes he did it.

It doesn't stop the bot entirely. He'll still come up and start spanking him sometimes, and Oil Slick has to gather up every shred of willpower to escape, rather than bend over and beg submissively. If Megatron were ever capable of getting Oil Slick bent over his lap, Oil Slick would be doomed. He'd end up grinding his spark on Megatron's lap as that big servo dented his aft.

If Blitzwing tried the same, Oil Slick would not even try to escape.

"I like sensitive afts," Blitzwing purrs in his audio, rubbing a little harder at it. "Zey are so much fun to play wiz."

He mewls happily, "Will you be spanking me before you tie me down?"

His neck is nibbled, "Maybe. I may want to do ozer zings first. We will see, ja?"

He nods, cuddling against the mech. He licks at the frozen treat, trying to make it last, but it is melting and getting over his claws. He licks off the energon, and laughs softly when Icy takes his servo and licks some off as well. "Do you like it?"

"You are very delicious, Oil Zlick. I look forward to seeing how your spark tastes."

"I look forward to having you taste me." He draws his claws down Blitzwing's chest, leaving sticky energon trails behind, which he cleans up with his glossa. The mech revs against him, and makes filthy promises in his audio about the many different kinds of chains and restraints he has available, to better tie down squirmy little bots. Oil Slick dims his optics, "As long as you don't mouthclamp me, I'm happy. I like having my mouth free." Even open-mouth clamps did not allow him to service sparks the same way.

Not that he knows much about them, but he has faint memories of Blitzwing using them on Acid Storm several times. Acid Storm certainly hadn't enjoyed them. Of course, Acid Storm only reluctantly allowed Blitzwing to chain and cuff him.

When Blitzwing lands on the ground on base, he's glad when he's not set down. He reaches into his subspace, and pulls out a box of his energon candy. "Do you want some?"

Icy pauses, looking at him, then he's kissed, quite forcefully. He mewls, clinging to the bot, and kissing back happily, letting Blitzwing dominate his mouth. When the bot finishes, Icy murmurs, "I zink zat I do, little bot." His aft is pinched, making him rev, and the triple-changer starts walking again, "You will feed me, ja?"

He sighs happily, opening the box and cutting a piece to feed a little at a time to Icy, "Of course."

Icy enjoys the candy, licking his claws as the cyclebot feeds him. Oil Slick revs helplessly. He squirms in Blitzwing's grasp as the mech ruthlessly works his aft, the metal so over-sensitive now that he worries that he'll overload just by thinking about it too hard. "Please," he whimpers, grinding his chest against Blitzwing's, and the larger bot revs.

"Nein. You will only overload in my berz, under me. Where little bots like you belong." He gets shoved onto said berth, and the mech pulls out a length of chain. "Do you have a preference for how you want to be tied?"

He shakes his head, lifting his arms above his head, "Anything that you want is fine with me." His spark flutters in excitement. He's _never _gotten this close to Blitzwing, since someone always interrupts him before he can even begin to flirt. Now he'll be here to try to bond, and nothing will go wrong at al-

There is a banging at the door, "Blitzving!" Oil Slick groans, he doesn't want Strika here. "Blitzving! You vill open up this instant! I saw you go in there vith Oil Slick!"

Icy glares at the door, "Go away, Strika. You have been doing zis ever since he joined your team. I will be doing zis _now_."

The door slams open, and she stomps in, "Ve have to have a meeting and know vhat he has gathered. You vill not stop me from this. Missions are more important than fragging a sparkbonded bot, you fragger." Oil Slick is yanked off of the berth, and shoved under her arm, "He vill be coming vith me."

"You really don't need to-" Oil Slick starts, only to have one of Strika's fingers shoved forcibly in his mouth, silencing him.

"Be quviet, little mech. I did not ask you. You are coming vith me, and if you try this again, Blitzving, I vill have _vords _vith Megatron about it. I do not think he vill be happy vith you for it."

Blitzwing scowls at her, flipping to Hothead, "If you take him from me again, I will _crush _you, you awful femme!"

She just ignores him and flounces out the door, Oil Slick tucked under her arm like a particularly spiky package. She doesn't set him down until they're in a meeting room. "There. You are not going to be forced to go into his berth. Ve vill keep you safe."

He glares, "Strika! Do you know how long I-"

She pushes him onto a chair, "You vere only in there for a short time. I managed to save you before he could force you. You vill not have to vorry about that. Just like how ve have been keeping the other bots avay from you."

"I didn't need your protection. I _wanted _to frag him. I-"

Strika's optics go wide, "You . . you _vant _to frag him? Oh, Primus, that fragger is your bondmate? But Blitzving never sparkbonded. Ve vould have known about it. Acid Storm vould have. . " she trails off and stares at him intently, "You are Acid Storm? A seeker reincarnated as a cyclebot? I have never heard of such madness." She prods his frame, "Vhy did you not tell us before now? Did you not trust us, little mech?"

Oil Slick scowls, "I am not _sure _if he is my bondmate or not, so don't go telling him that he is."

Spittor calls out cheerfully, "Too late!"

He gives the bot a confused look, "What?"

Spittor dances back and forth, almost playfully, "Just sent him a text asking if he was bonded to Acid Storm. He'll be replying soon."

He screeches angrily, jumping at the walker-mech, only to be caught by Strika. "He vas right to do it, little bot. You should have asked him in the first place. Or just said who you vere."

He keeps reaching for Spittor, clawing at the air, "Like frag I did! I'm not taking a reformat! I like my frame! I'm not going to be a screechy seeker!"

"If your flock leader vants it, you vill undergo a reformat, Oil Slick." Strika holds him, not letting him escape.

"No, I won't, you can't make me!" he shouts, aware that he sounds rather screechy as he does it. Sometimes the seeker traits . . shine through, no matter the frame.

The door slides open, and Blitzwing steps in, his faces flipping rapidly, settling finally on Icy. The mech steps towards them, one servo outstretched, ". . Meine Acid Storm? Is zat . . is it really you? Why have . . you have always tried to stay avay from me. Am I wrong? Are you not meine Acid Storm?"

He scratches at Strika, "I never _tried _to stay away. I actively tried to get into your berth, but everyone keeps pulling me away." He crosses his arms, "Besides, you aren't sparkbonded to me. I'm just..." He offlines his optics, "a stupid sparkbroken seeker."

Blitzwing frowns, "But I _am _sparkbonded to Acid Storm."

He glares, "There was no announcement! I could find no record of it, no matter how hard I tried! You are _with Shockwave_. I am constantly reproved from going to you, and I can't-"

Icy frowns at him, "You are ze one zat wanted to keep it a secret."

"Why would I want to keep it a secret?"

Blitzwing flushes abruptly, flipping to his Random face, "Zey . . well, we never did get permission to sparkbond. And you were worried zat your flockleader would get upset and banish you for bonding outside of your modeltype without requesting permission first."

Oil Slick has vague memories of that now, and of begging Blitzwing to stay silent until he had a chance to slowly introduce Starscream to the idea of it.

He'd offlined before he'd had the chance.

He groans, rubbing his optics, "Are all seekers as _stupid _as I was?" He sighs softly, "Starscream wouldn't banish a seeker for actually managing to sparkbond."

Blitzwing flips back to Icy, taking a step forward, "Zat is what I told you, but you kept insisting. You knew your flockleader better zan I, so I would to what you wanted. I would never-"

He makes a face, "_So _stupid. Dumb seekers that think they can sing, and are so fraggin' proud of themselves for things that don't matter. Prideful fraggers."

Strika coughs, and interrupts them. "If you are truly bondmates. . . perhaps you should go pay a visit to the berth?"

Oil Slick stares at Blitzwing and feels his spark pulse bright and hot. "I . . think that would be a good idea. A marvelous idea, in fact. I-" he jerks as Strika pushes his sparkplates open, snapping his locks in the process, "Strika!"

"Oil Slick," she mocks, and turns him to show his spark to Blitzwing. "Now, does this spark look familiar to you, Blitzving?"

Blitzwing flips to Random, exclaiming happily, "Acid Storm!" He's yanked out of her arms, and twirled around. "You should have done zis when you very first joined! I would have never let you out of my berz!" He's covered in kisses, a large glossa he _knows _wasn't there before flicking against his armor possessively, "We will bond right away!"

He clings to the triple-changer as they rush through the halls, "I... I missed you."

He's kissed excitedly, and the bot then flips back to Icy, kissing him again, "_You_ missed me? I am ze one zat had to wait for you to grow up, remember me, zen do all zis waiting zat was _all your fault_. You should have let me tell Starscream."

"I should have, I'm sorry," Oil Slick clings to him, revving as Blitzwing pins him down to the berth, growling in his audio.

"Give yourself to me, Acid Storm. I am going to take you now."

* * *

><p>He cuddles against Blitzwing, engine purring happily. His armor is rubbed lovingly, and Blitzwing kisses him. "I have missed you so much."<p>

He nuzzles his love, "I won't be leaving you again. You won't have to worry about that."

He is pushed flat on the berth, "Good. I will have to chain you to ze berz to make sure of zat."

His spark pulses happily, "If you insist."

When Blitzwing pulls out a length of chain to do just that, he doesn't think he could get any happier.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review<strong>

Like I said above, I cut out the porn in this chapter. And we're done! Last chapyer! Woo! Look at the porn at the livejournal.

Or it may not be up. LJ is freaking right now. I'll be trying to post it. Just check every so often.


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